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residents-of-the-darkforest · 2 years

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The Better Mother (short story)

“Halfkit? Halfkit?” Gorsekit swung his gaze around the camp, searching for his brown-furred friend. He had slept in most of the day, not yet used to the sleeping schedule of his denmates. It had only been less than a quarter-moon since he was found by his foster mother, Doesong, and taken into the Clan.

In the last few days, while most of the apprentices and Eelkit poked fun at Gorsekit for not being Clanborn, Halfkit had befriended him. It was Gorsekit’s understanding that Halfkit recognized what it was like to be tormented, his leading reason for giving a former rogue-kit a shot.

Eelkit was Halfkit’s brother. Gorsekit saw him now, watching intently as the apprentices, Snowpaw and Cloudpaw, practised battle moves. Halfkit wasn’t with him.

Moving on, Gorsekit poked his head into the elders’ den. His rustling woke Thistledust, who blinked a weary eye at the black kit. The grey-chinned tom let out a massive yawn. It was an effort not to flinch at the horrid breath that erupted from behind his yellow teeth.

Thistledust was kind. Gorsekit didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so he made sure not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Thistledust smiled. “Hello youn’ Gorsekit! Are ya here for a story?” Forgetting his etiquette, Gorsekit pressed his paws against his ears.

Another elder, Archfrost, stirred. “Thistledust, you’re yelling again,” he grumbled. “Am I?” Thistledust asked loudly. “Is Halfkit here?” Gorsekit raised his voice in case Thistledust decided to speak again. “No, why? Are ya playing hide-n-seek? I loved that game when I was yur age. Have ya checked the nursery?” “He wasn’t there when I woke up.” “He could be there again,” Archfrost suggested. “I love having you here, Gorsekit. But I’m trying to sleep, and Thistledust doesn’t exactly understand volume after age took his ears.”

Thistledust scratched behind his ear. “I heard ‘Gorsekit’ and ‘sleep.’” He paused, his leg still raised behind his head. “Do ya need to sleep, Gorse? Go on! Doesong’s gunna be waiting for ya. I’ll tell ya a story when ya wake up, maybe the one with the hawk in the ice!”

“Okay!” Gorsekit cheered, and turned to race out of the den and toward the nursery. Even if he didn’t find Halfkit, at least he still had that story to look forward to. Thistledust had an air of enthusiasm around him, capable of making the most boring stories sound like amazing legends.

“I saw the way he played with you yesterday. He was too rough. He was trying to hurt you.” Gorsekit recognized Shadefur’s voice. He perked up, peeking into the nursery. Sure enough, there was Halfkit. He was about to call his friend over, when Halfkit spoke.

“We were practising battle moves, he’s supposed to be rough!” Halfkit sounded defiant, an odd contrast to his ducked head and averting gaze.

Gorsekit trained with Halfkit yesterday, sure of being the only one that did. After all, Stormpaw, Snowpaw’s brother, was the only one that didn’t tease them, and he had been in the medicine den all day due to a scraped pad. Gorsekit ducked away, his eyes fixed on the brown figures in the gaps of the leaves. Why were they talking about him?

“He had his claws out, he made you bleed,” Shadefur insisted, almost as if her son hadn’t spoken. That was an accident! Halfkit had yanked on Gorsekit’s tail, it was only instinct that Gorsekit unsheathed his claws. Besides, Halfkit hadn’t needed to see the medicine cat.

“He said he was sorry,” Halfkit mumbled. He seemed to be losing his confidence.

“Only after I had a strict word with him!” Shadefur shook her head. Because I didn’t know before then! Halfkit hadn’t screeched, being just as surprised as Gorsekit had been when Shadefur fretted over the tiny dots of blood on Halfkit’s legs.

Shadefur sighed, wrapping her tail around her son. “I don’t want you to be mad at him. I know he didn’t mean it. He’s a rogue, it’s in his nature to be rough. That’s why I want you to stick with your brother from now on, okay?”

“No!” Halfkit wailed. “I don’t want to! Eelkit’s mean to me, Gorsekit is nice! Why can’t I play with Gorsekit?” Gorsekit’s legs buckled from beneath him and he fell back on his haunches.

Shadefur had always been so nice to him. Why was she speaking the way she was now? And what of Halfkit? Gorsekit imagined growing up, tormented by the older cats, with no backup to share the pain with. Was that only going to get worse when he became an apprentice? His chest heaved and he sobbed.

“Gorsekit!” A warm, familiar milk-scent filled his nose, and he felt himself be wrapped around by Doesong, as much as he could be at least, with her round belly. Her fluffy fur pressed against his own, pricked ones. Gorsekit shook as she licked the tears from his face. “What’s wrong, little one?”

It was a while before Gorsekit could answer her, gasping and sobbing into her fur. Doesong waited patiently, grooming his pelt in gentle rhythms. “Shadefur says that Halfkit can’t play with me anymore.” Gorsekit’s bottom lip stuck out.

Doesong tilted her head. “Is he unwell?” “No. She says I’m too rough, because I was a rogue.” Doesong pricked her ears. “She did?” Gorsekit nodded vigorously. “What’s a rogue?” He only had a few recollections from living outside of the Clan. He was sure his biological mother had a dark pelt, but he wasn’t sure.

“It’s a cat who lives outside of the Clans, and is usually hostile. Are you hostile?” “Hostel?” “Aggressive. Are you aggressive?” “No! You’re supposed to be nice.” Doesong smiled at him, a sight that almost made Gorsekit cheer up. “Then there you go, you’re not a rogue. You’re Gorsekit, my kit. And you’re Thunderclan.”

Gorsekit snuggled deeper against her, relieved. Then a thought returned and he worried again. “So I can play with Halfkit?” “You know what?” Doesong stood up, gesturing for Gorsekit to do the same. “Why don’t we go ask Shadefur?” Gorsekit cowered beneath his mother’s belly as she trotted into the den. Shadefur was going to yell at him again, he was sure of it. Would Halfkit get angry at him too, for upsetting his mother?

“Hello, Shadefur! Would Halfkit like to come play with Gorsekit?” Halfkit jumped to his paws, his tail lifting excitingly. He took one glance at Shadefur and sat back down. “It’s almost time for Halfkit’s nap. I don’t want him riled up, or he won’t sleep right.” “Maybe I could help tire him with a story?” Doesong kept her voice polite and smooth, but from beneath her, Gorsekit could feel how tense she was.

Shadefur licked her chest-fur. “Isn’t that usually something reserved for the elders?”

Doesong flicked her tail dismissively. “Nonsense! I tell stories to Gorsekit all the time when I need him to settle down. Not one has ever been ineffective. You did say you wanted Halfkit to sleep, didn’t you?”

Gorsekit held his breath. Shadefur’s tail flicked in what was presumably annoyance, her eyes darkening as she continued to stare at Doesong. Gorsekit pressed himself against the ground in an attempt to hide himself as much as possible, in case that enraged leer flicked to him.

He glanced at Halfkit, who met his gaze. The brown tom’s yellow eyes were troubled. At first, Halfkit looked as if he were hiding from Doesong, as Gorsekit was with Shadefur. That is, until Gorsekit realized that his paws were shifting impatiently, with his ears angled behind him to listen to his mother’s response. “One story,” Shadefur grumbled at last. Gorsekit’s heart thumped painfully in his chest as Shadefur began to leave the den. “You have until I finish my crow.”

Silence fell over them again as they waited for Shadefur to exit earshot. “Alright.” Doesong padded over Gorsekit, toward her nest, and climbed in. Gorsekit ran over to her, practically leaping in beside her. “Halfkit?” Doesong looked up. “Are you joining us?” Halfkit took a step toward them, then paused. He frowned, glancing out of the den.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Doesong soothed. “Shadefur said that you can listen to one story. There’s enough room for you here.” Halfkit continued to hesitate. Gorsekit panicked. Was Halfkit going to decide to join Eelkit after all?

Halfkit broke into a smile. Gorsekit wriggled happily as his friend padded over and climbed in beside him, even as his paws shifted some of the moss. “Now, I have a really good one. When I was an apprentice, Thunderclan….”

Gorsekit rested against Doesong’s shoulder as she told a story of how Thunderclan fell into a minor famine, and had to hunt mice from the barn on Windclan territory in order to get their food. His head sank into her pelt as her soft words lulled him and he felt himself growing sleeping, comfortably snuggled in Doesong's warmth.

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--Yeah Shadefur is racist (classist?). She doesn’t want her son, who would become Gorseheart’s long-time best friend until Gorse was pushed too far, to have anything to do with someone who was born outside of the Clans. But Doesong’s like “no, fuck u”

--Good mom

--Thistle is Doe’s dad and therefore Gorse’s adoptive grandfather. Archfrost is the parent to three cats that Gorseheart would later kill.

--Not the same Doesong as the resident, that’s just a coincidence

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