Oliver looked over his shoulder as small groups of mice began to leave the courtyard- following the older watchmouse who addressed them. The idea of a bloody death didn't sit well with most mice, Oliver included, and not least of all including those who turned tail and left. Oliver himself stood his ground, surprisingly enough, his paws grasping tightly at the strap of the satchel over his shoulder, and breathing deeply to help steel himself. Another day, Oliver probably would have left as well. He never proclaimed himself to be a particularly stout or lion-hearted mouse, and a couple of the other recruits, fully expecting him to turn off and run sneered at him when they saw he didn't.  

Oly glanced around at the other watchmice who stood, staring them down, and found himself making eye contact with Aran Badgerslayer, whom, despite having his arm in a sling, stood as tall and as proud as the rest of the watchmice. The veteran watchguard nodded subtly, but approvingly, and Oly felt more confident in his decision to stay- if only slightly. 

Returning his attention to the head watchmouse, the aging mouse beckoned for them to follow him, saying that it was time for them to take the trials- whatever they were. Oly and a few of the other mice looked at each other, nervous. The mouse standing next to him gestured forward with his head, implying that Oly should walk first. Oly shook his head and did a similar gesture, indicating that [i]that[/i] mouse should go first instead. Despite the silent arguing, it would appear that it didn't matter which of the two went forward before the other, as another mouse decided to take the lead. 

A female mouse, a good bit taller than Oly and many of the other mice in the courtyard walked forward first. She wore a gambeson and balanced a warhammer over her shoulder- two bits of equipment more than almost every other mouse in the courtyard. Were they supposed to bring their own weapons, Oly wondered. He had never really held a sword before- outside of his childhood days where him and his brothers would run around with sticks, whacking eachother. The other recruits watched her in a sort of stunned stupor before she turned again, looking at them as if beckoning them to follow.

Oly took a deep gulp and forced himself to step forward. The mouse standing next to him took a deep breath and followed a second later. A general shuffle of footsteps behind them indicated that a few more had began to follow.