Thornkit (son of Ferndoe) and one of Daisy’s kits go to the Dark Forest to grow

It they have a second, secret vendetta: revenge against the mothers that killed them

It was hard to believe that this was happening. 

Jackdawfoot hadn’t been a father since he was alive, and he left when all of his daughters were adults. Then suddenly, he had a mate again, became a father again, and now, his fluffy chest puffing out in pride, was watching his kits receive their apprentice names again.

The ceremony wasn’t like that of a regular Clan. Not everyone in the Dark Forest was going to show up, but all the important cats were here, kin to Redkit, Blackkit and Mudkit, and Wormkit’s adoptive parents, and of course, the parents themselves. As well, there were the mentors, making it no real surprise who they would be. There was also Fungichomp, the main caretaker of the ‘Daycare,’ as well as some onlookers.

Jackdawfoot and Ferndoe had discussed long and hard about who they wanted to train their precious son and daughter. They initially wanted to train them themselves, knowing they could protect them and keep them safe, but decided that what Mudkit and Blackkit needed was help from someone they didn’t already know to bring them out of their shells. ‘Daycare’ could only do so much.

Beside him, Wordweaver made a noise–something of a purr. Or maybe a word, because it made Daisysong chuckle. 

Jackdawfoot couldn’t pin down why exactly Wordweaver was here. Was it because Wormkit was her kin? Because Redkit was the kit of her kin? Could it be because Blackkit had been the first voice her mate heard when she arrived in the Dark Forest? Because Ferndoe, Blackkit’s mother, was a good friend of Daisysong’s? Or perhaps it was for their son, Mellowpaw, seated between his mothers’ legs, chattering on about how he wanted to show the new apprentices that ‘realy cool training grove.’

Jackdawfoot hoped it was somewhere safe.

At least Wormkit was doing better. Jackdawfoot still wasn’t too fond of the kit, and he had made his request to keep him away from his kits clear to Fungichomp, but he was still a kit, and Jackdawfoot had to acknowledge how much better Wormkit was doing. He, reportedly, didn’t get in half as much trouble as he usually did these days, and once even helped another kit find their lost pinecone.

He wasn’t all the way better just yet. He still had his moments, but that was why he was beginning training. Jackdawfoot knew that his mothers agreed that the ‘Daycare’ and themselves had helped Wormkit as much as they could, and now he needed one-on-one attention. 

Training would have begun earlier, as well as Mudkit’s and Blackkit’s, if they had not met Redkit. They met because of their parents’ connection, bonding so well that Blackkit cried about not getting to become an apprentice alongside his friend. It wasn’t about a difference in age, more of a difference in readiness.

Ready. His kits were ready. A pang stabbed Jackdawfoot’s chest. He wanted Blackkit and Mudkit to remain as they were, small and able to fit in his paws or climb over his back. He didn’t want them to grow. He didn’t even know that they could.

“Welcome, everyone,” Alderstar spoke up from where he stood on a tall, jagged stone, cutting into Jackdawfoot’s thoughts. Jackdawfoot couldn’t suppress an amused grin. Being Alderstar’s friend, he had found it funny that so many looked to the golden leader for advice and ceremonies, as if he hadn’t also been a serial killer. Alderstar had never forced a meeting or respect. Perhaps that was why he always seemed to get it.

“This moon, we welcome four young cats into our ranks of warriors. They will learn skills the Clans were frightened of teaching. They will be taught lessons in sonderness and survival, fighting not for cats who would have asked them to give their life for the greater good, but for themselves, their own worth, and their own loved ones. Redkit, step forward.”

At the front of the crowd in the line of kits, Redkit visibly shook. From nerves or excitement, Jackdawfoot couldn’t be sure. All the same, she obliged. 

“With request of your father–my son, your dad, and Fungichomp, your mentor shall be Hootpetal. I know her as a strong and compassionate warrior, and trust that she will protect you and allow you to thrive in ways that will thrill you.”

Redkit’s tail flicked. She was clearly much happier now, touching noses with her grandmother with a little chirp, before settling down next to her. Hootpetal turned to Perchclaw on her other side. “I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, licking at his ear.

“Mom!” Perchclaw complained, ducking away, but try as he might, he couldn’t hide the grin.

“Wormkit, step forward.”

Jackdawfoot held his breath. He scanned the crowd, wondering which of them would receive the kit. 

“With request of your mothers and Fungichomp, your mentor shall be Snowwing. He is a passive, skillful warrior, whom I expect will pass on everything you need to know.”

Jackdawfoot heard the hint in his words. It wasn’t just about skills in fighting, but in other things Wormkit needed a lesson or two about. But it had been stated in a kind way, disguised as to not embarrass or anger the kit.

He realized that Snowwing, Wormkit’s adoptive brother, was probably the best choice anyone could have made. He visited his mothers often and likely met Wormkit before, but not so much that that could soften his lectures for Wormkit. Too, he really was passive, always having a resting bored face and never feeling bothered enough to fight. He was the kind of cat that would respond to an insult with “well, I don’t think that,” and move on. It would certainly help to focus Wormkit on his duties, and on not trying to hurt someone’s feelings once he figures that that is an impossible thing to do.

“Mudkit,” Alderstar spoke again. Jackdawfoot and Ferndoe both straightened as high as they could. “With request of your parents and Fungichomp,”--Jackdawfoot and Ferndoe exchanged a nervous glance. He hoped their choice was the right one– “your mentor shall be Hawkjay. A clever convergent thinker, I trust her to keep you safe and teach you well.”

Jackdawfoot narrowed his eye, paying close attention to Hawkjay’s and Mudkit’s actions as they touched noses. Mudkit’s ears were flat, but that was to be expected. Hawkjay bent down carefully to reach her, blue eyes warm. “I look forward to getting to know you,” she said in a low voice so that only Mudkit, and the parents close by, could hear. 

Jackdawfoot relaxed.

“Blackkit,” Alderstar went on. “With request of your parents and Fungichomp,”--the nerves returned– “your mentor shall be Lovagecreek. A warrior with a big heart is something of interest in a place like this, and I trust that he will use it to make you feel safe and happy to the best of his ability, until you are able to do so on your own.”

On your own. The pang pricked deeper. Blackkit and Mudkit weren’t just becoming apprentices, they were growing up–growing apart from him. He forced his muzzle straight and not quivering as Alderstar finished. “We welcome you as apprentices of the Place of No Stars!”

To a Clan cat, to Starclan, maybe even to kittypets, that would have felt like a thing to be ashamed of. But Alderstar managed to speak as if it was an honour only the best of cats get to experience. Maybe it actually was. 

“Redpaw!”

“Mudpaw!”

“Blackpaw!”

“Wormpaw!”

============================================

--Daycare in quotations because it’s Jackdaw’s POV and he doesn’t know where the name came from and doesn’t know what to make of it.

--Jackdawfoot doesn’t know about the water incident with Wormkit/paw.

--I was going to give Mud and Black to mentors that weren’t my characters, since Red and Worm already were, but then realized that Lovage and Hawk haven’t been seen in a while.

--Snowwing is the kind of person to respond to “I think you look like shit” with “okay. I don’t think that.” and his opinion on the matter is the only one he should care about, so it doesn’t bother him.

--The ceremonious words are a little different than that of the Clans (and also with some shade). While the Clans view importance in the group (protect this Clan even at the cost of your life), the Dark Forest views it in the individual. 

As well, because they’re in Hell, they do need to know extra fighting skills that are more....violent than Clan cats would have learned, in order to stay safe. I don’t know how much hunting they would learn, considering there’s no food, but there’s probably lessons in other things that wouldn’t have been taught to living cats (like sonder).

Aliases / Nicknames: Idiot, Dear

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: pansexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed ‘fling,’ Honeykit, Flykit, Stripedkit, Softkit (kits)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor

Clan: Thunderclan

Rank: queen, warrior

Characteristics: kills kits to protect them from her influence, kills kits to prevent a bad future for them, anxiety, misophonia

Number of Victims: 4

Number of Murders: 4

Murder Method: suffocation

Known Victims: Honeykit, Flykit, Stripedkit, Softkit

Victim Profile: her kits

Cause of Death: killed in battle

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

She was an ordinary warrior aside from the tendency for anxiety. 

She wasn’t prepared for motherhood. It was an accidental pregnancy, and the second she found out up until their birth, she was drowning in fear. She was still so young, and what if she was a bad mom? 

The tom she had been with dipped out, and there would be no other queens in the nursery besides her, so she would be completely and utterly alone.

She tried to care for them, she really did! But they wailed so much and so loud, and it was difficult to comfort them when all her mind wanted to do was drown all the noise out and settle her racing heart.

She had nightmares every single night, and all of them detailed her horridness as a mother. It all came to a head only half a moon after they were born. She was exhausted and fell asleep in the morning after constant crying for food and attention and every single possible thing kept her up.

It was a dream of her kits all grown up. Grown up, and terrible. They mocked their Clanmates, stole food, and disrespected the code in the worst possible ways, including murder.

It was because of her. She knew it. If she kept up the way she was, her kits were doomed to ruin their Clan. She had to get better, she had to.

But she had tried so very hard. She really did! But she was as exhausted as ever, and no one was able to help her. Her mother only visited twice, and once was to blame her for getting herself into this mess.

She wanted to give them good lives, but that was impossible. But if she didn’t, they were doomed to the Dark Forest. What else could she do but ensure that they do neither? That they live somewhere nice, somewhere perfect? Somewhere where she couldn’t fail them.

It was tough holding moss over their tiny little bodies. She had to take many breaks to cry, and it didn’t help when the kits wailed, frightened.

She couldn’t believe herself. That’s why she didn’t think she was worth defending when it came to battle.

Additional Information:

--’Idiot’ nickname is by her mother

--They were too young to understand what she was doing, but they could sense that something was wrong, which is why they were wailing and frightened.

Mellowkit.. but as an adult (his med cat name would be Mellowtooth bc he didn’t like the ‘fang’ suffix

Lineart for adult is from rockyspotted on deviantart!

OH MY GOD FLUFFY BOY!!!!!

He could win any fight by just sitting on them and choking them with fluff

Thornkit and Flykit! They snuck into the Dark Forest so that they could grow up. But they don’t tell their secret vendetta--revenge against the ones that killed them, who just happen to be their mothers.

Also considering having a third kit that comes, but is kind of tricked into it because they don’t want revenge.

Flykit/Stripedkit!