- Feb 26, 2025
- 30
- 4
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✦ tw : Joy is experiencing a panic attack related to food insecurity
Joykit hunched over the fish like it was something precious, her paws clamped down on either side of it as if the wind itself might steal it away. Her heart pounded too loud in her ears, her breath hitching in tight little gasps. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows that tangled like claws across the camp. It should've felt warm. Safe. But her chest felt like it was closing in, her thoughts spiraling too fast for her to catch hold of them.
It had been a good day, hadn't it? Or, at least, an ordinary one. Warriors bringing in fresh-kill, queens calling to their kits, the river's steady murmur beyond the camp's edge. All the sounds that were slowly becoming familiar. All the things that were supposed to mean safety. But when she'd reached the fresh-kill pile, her stomach rumbling and her paws heavy from play, the panic hit her like a rush of icy water. The fish she'd chosen—a sleek little minnow with shining scales—felt too good to be true. Too perfect.
Joykit had dragged it off to the side, where the shadows pooled and the chatter of the camp faded to a dull hum. She hadn't meant to hide—just to eat in peace, to have something that was hers, even for a little while. But now, her whole body trembled, her chest heaving as she tried to force air into her lungs. Her claws dug into the fish's scales, tiny pinpricks of pain sparking through her pads. What if someone came over? What if they told her she couldn't have it? What if they said it was meant for someone else—someone more important, someone stronger or older or more deserving? A cat with river-blood running through their veins.
The thoughts tightened around her like thorny vines, cutting deeper the longer she fought against them. Her eyes squeezed shut and for a moment she was somewhere else, somewhere colder, harsher.
She was smaller then. Weaker. Curled against her mother's thin, shivering frame as they tried to shelter themselves under the exposed roots of a tree. The air was sharp with frost, their breaths fogging in front of them. Joy's belly had ached with hunger, a constant gnawing pain she'd almost grown used to. But then—food. A scrap of something, a mouse her mother had caught through sheer desperation and luck. It was barely more than a few bites, but it was food. Her mother had pushed it toward her, her own ribs showing through her fur.
"Eat, Joy," her mother's voice had trembled with exhaustion, but the warmth was still there. "You need it more than me." Joy had been about to take her first bite when the stranger appeared. A big tom with scarred flanks and cold eyes. He'd taken one look at them—at her mother's trembling legs, her own tiny, fragile frame—and he'd snatched the mouse away as if it was his by right. He'd eaten it right there, ignoring her mother's quiet, pleading words. When he'd left, there'd been nothing. Nothing but hunger and the hollow ache of helplessness.
Joykit's eyes snapped open, the memory crashing into her like a wave. Her claws pressed harder into the fish, her breath coming faster now. The fear was stupid, irrational. No one here would do that. No one would steal her food and leave her to starve. Not in RiverClan. But it felt real. Too real. Her body didn't know the difference, didn't understand that she was safe now. All it understood was that she'd found something good and someone might take it away. Just like before.
Her mismatched eyes darted around camp, searching for any sign that someone was coming to snatch the food away. Her ears flattened, her tail bristling against the ground. "It's mine," she whispered to herself, her voice shaking like dry leaves in the wind. "It's mine." The words felt hollow, like trying to shelter under a leaf during a storm. She curled tighter around the fish, her breath shuddering, trying to convince herself that she was safe. That no one would take it away. That she could eat without feeling like the world might rip it from her paws at any moment.
A sound—a rustle of fur, a pawstep too close—made her flinch. Her eyes snapped up, wide and startled, her fur spiking like a cornered animal. She stared at the approaching cat, her claws still dug into the fish like she thought they might be able to anchor her there "What do you want?" she blurted, voice cracked and trembling. Her chest felt tight, her breaths coming in shallow, frantic bursts. She was trying to be brave, trying to sound strong, but the words trembled like the tendrils of a willow tree caught in the wind.
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JOYKIT KIT; SHE / HER ; RUE X UNKNOWN ; SIBLING TOLIGHT&HOPE
✦ Unskilled kit
