Hate Me So (solo)

MARSHMALLOW
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Marshmallow had to stare at her mother every single time she entered the warrior's den. Her mousebrained black and white fur similar to her own, but that was where the two cat's similarities ended. Marshmallow felt a little bit of fury rise up from within her every time she had to look at that sorry excuse of a mother. Inside, she might've blamed Soottail for every single thing that got her in trouble. For not raising her right enough to avoid it. For not... Raising her... At all.

As she padded into the warrior's den, this time, however, her mother was nowhere in sight. As she was about to breathe a sigh of relief and sit down for a small grooming session, someone shoved passed her. "Wow. Grandma never taught you to be polite to your own children, did she?" She spat, no longer caring to keep that little kit voice act. Her mother wasn't worth a loss of energy. The mousebrained she-cat turned her head back to glare at her daughter. "Oh, feeling mature, now? Deeping your voice to seem scary? I don't recall teaching you to talk back to your mother." Soottail's response felt as if she had been bitten by a venomous snake. "I don't recall you teaching me anything." Her claws slid out of her black paws as she approached her mother. If only she could dig her claws into that cat-equivalent of a mockingbird.

"Ha!" Chirped Soottail, slumping down in her own nest. Mousebrained, mousebrained, mousebrained. Marshmallow repeated in her head. "I was a queen full of grief, I lost two of my children, you don't know how that feels, and I doubt anyone could love you enough so that you could have a chance of finding out how that feels..." Her mother growled, tail lashing. "What's your warrior name again? I can't seem to remember." Was Soottail trying to press her buttons? "Stop taunting me. I'm Marshmallow, and I'm not your little mousebrained kit anymore." She lashed her tail. She'd never felt that sensitive before, did it just... Hurt more, being called these critical things by your mother? "I could barely call you mine." Soottail huffed.

"It's settled then, I am not your kit. You are barely a mother." With that, Marshmallow turned to her nest and sat down, grooming herself while glaring at Soottail. "Fine, you sorry excuse for a warrior." Her responses... She's begging to be hurt. She paused grooming herself, lifting her head. "My siblings are lucky that they died so young." She mewed, not thinking in the moment. There was a growl, and then a black and white shape quickly left the den. I win, Soottail. She went back to grooming, still feeling furious.