Bearclaw Valley wildflower

the words didn’t sting because she already knew them. they settled inside twitch like a slow, creeping ache, winding their way into the places she didn’t like to look at too closely.

making mistakes is normal. how else would you improve?

no kidding. but belief was dangerous—it opened doors to disappointment. better to stay where it was safe. the expectation of failure was safe—sweet if she defied said expectation. vanja had spent her whole life picking at scabs, replaying failures over and over in her head like a cruel mantra. twitch knew it was safer to expect nothing from herself than to climb too high and come crashing down.

her steps slowed, her tail giving an anxious twitch as she looked at the ground, at the bundle of nest materials clutched in her jaws. she felt weirdly exposed, like winslet had reached into her chest and started burning away the thorn bushes crowding her chest with beaming light.

it made her itch. made her want to shrug and laugh and wave it off with a careless yeah, sure, whatever you say.

instead, her voice came small. hesitant. like she wasn’t sure if the words were safe to say aloud. “i've done plenty in the past year and half. i know what i can do.” she muttered, lips curling into something wry. self-conscious. “—know when i'm beat, too.”