Backwritten Oneshot Fragile and feeling alone, but the whole story hasn't been told. || Waiting...

[Stoatpaw]

{$title} cw // depiction of a panic attack | Stoat's left alone while Timber goes to hunt and left to her own thoughts.

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Stoat tried not to worry. Her father told her she was small, worry wasn't something she had to deal with, she just had to be wary. But she was small and didn't know the difference. A sticky lump of mud caught in her throat lodged the worry that wormed its way through every last inch of her body. She grew restless, pacing and wandering and pacing some more but never straying too far from where Timber left her. It'd been that long since her father had left; his scent had begun to wain, soaked into the silt and mud of the pocosin, rain thudding harder as it washed away any sign of him.

That lump of mud in her throat grew harder to deal with, and Stoat's breathing grew heavy, laboured. She didn't really notice while lost in her own thoughts. 'What if he's gone.' The idea seeded in her mind like a sickness, one she couldn't shake. 'What if he left? He had enough of me. Like mama.' The lump in her throat seemed to harden in an instant; she couldn't breathe through it. Just the thought of her mother, eyes that never looked at her with the fondness her father or uncle ever did. She never looked at her. When she did, there was something cruel; she didn't know that then, and she couldn't tell what that look was. Stoat didn't know what contempt was; she only knew the eyes of a mother whom she thought loved her. It was only by seeing that same look from the other cats Stoat and Timber saw on their travels that she knew that cold glare was.

Stoat didn't know what she'd done wrong. Her heart thudded in her tiny chest. This always happens when she is left alone; she tries to be brave. She tried so very hard to remember her father's words. But for each passing moment, she was left alone; that fear went from a tiny drip to a wave that pushed her beneath the surface and God, she couldn't breathe.

She only noticed her state when her vision went completely bleary with tears, warm and wet, that soaked her fur. All she could do was cease her pacing, instead dragging herself to nearby bushes and collapsing at the base. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear, she was all alone, and she was oh so terrified. Rogues and loners and barn cats told stories of animals and beasts that lived in these forests, so out of an instinct-driven her, she buried her face under her paws and tried her best to stay as quiet as possible. Stoat didn't know how well she was doing it, but she just hoped, pleaded it was enough to stay invisible. She'd gotten good at that. Or maybe no one was looking. She didn't know which she'd rather, but she just wished Timber would come home. Some tiny part of her, even though knowing what everything used to be wasn't good, she missed it. Having more cats around, having her family. It wasn't much but it was hers.

Stoat tried desperately to wipe away the tears that clouded her vision, soaking her paws and probably mottling her fur with mud, but it'd hide her crying, at least a little. Timber told her not to worry, so she had to prove she was strong. She knew things would always be hard, so if she convinced everyone she was strong and okay, then surely she was. Right? It was getting late by then; she could see it through teary eyes even now. The chill of the night began to grow bitter, and she knew she was meant to stay awake so her father could find her, but after working herself up, she was so, so tired. But she had to be strong and stay awake, as much as Stoat wanted nothing more than to sleep.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 
  Stoatkit
  ✦—Shadowclan kit
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1