{$title} TW // self-doubt, self-hatred, mentions of misogyny/internalized misogyny, depictions of a panic attack
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TW // self-doubt, self-hatred, mentions of misogyny/internalized misogyny, depictions of a panic attack
She sat idly inside Riverclan camp, her faltering belief in herself only getting worse and worse by the day. She had lingered close to Thunderclan border again, hoping to catch sight of that stunning Thunderclanner that had attempted to impress her with his nestwork. Instead, she was gifted with the sight of him brushing against another tom, her heart shattered by the sight as she sunk down into herself, walking back to camp with her tail tucked between her legs like a scolded child.
She couldn't even turn to her mother for comfort, her father always lingering close to his mate with a grip of heavy control that she could not fathom. Was that her future too? Forced into an arrangement with a tom that told her exactly when she could do things and how she had to do things. It seemed pitiful, but she always remembered her father's advice during her apprenticeship. He would make excuses, claim that their training was going well --- instead, she was forced to weave until her jaw ached.
Idle molly paws are terrible things, was her father's explanation. You don't need to know how to fight, your mate will handle that. You don't need hunting skills, your mate will provide for you. It felt pitiful that she was a fully fledged warrior now, but some of the apprentices around camp likely knew more about the duties of a warrior than she did. She had an apprentice now, one she was not worth of in the slightest. How was she meant to explain to Pikestar that she barely knew how to hunt herself? How was she supposed to teach something that she herself did not know how to do?
She felt like crying, but what would that solve? It would just prove to her father and brothers that she was an emotional molly, like they had always told her. She sunk down by the nursery, her vision beginning to blur as she started to panic --- heart pounding and ears hot. Her head darted around, terrified that it may be one of her brothers that saw her like this, her breathing growing heavier and her eyes beginning to well. She was just a stupid molly, like everyone had always told her.
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°·𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝·
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WEAVER OF RIVERCLAN
she / her, afab (female)
23 moons old, ages on the 18th.
minnowbite x lilyheart, sibling to whalewatcher, eeltooth, troutbranch,
mentored by minnowbite, mentor to sunpaw
SPEECH // THOUGHTS // INTERACTIONpenned by asteiri!
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