#lionroot

Aliases / Nicknames: Mom, Mother, Our Precious Kit

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: asexual, aromantic

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed brother, Lionroot (mate), Nightflower (daughter)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, unnamed apprentice

Clan: Thunderclan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: kills to protect her daughter from the life she herself couldn’t escape

Number of Victims: 3

Number of Murders: 3

Murder Method: crushing, ripping tongue out / drowning on blood

Known Victims: her mother, her father, unnamed Thunderclan tom

Victim Profile: those who bother her daughter

Cause of Death: head injury during a hunt

Cautionary Tale: don’t force your children into a life that they don’t want

Story:

A mate, a litter of kits. It was the perfect life.

And she wanted no part of it. 

Jaggedbriar had never felt romantic or physical feelings for, hell, anyone in her life. She figured she wasn’t ‘normal,’ when the other apprentices would stay up late and gossip about their crushes and she had nothing to contribute.

She told her mother, even the medicine cat, and they all said the same thing of ‘you just need to find the right one.’

But the feelings they described when you apparently do find the ‘right one,’ were feelings she was unfamiliar with.

She had been a warrior for many moons without taking a mate, in spite of the efforts of Lionroot, who mooned over her, according to her parents. Eventually her parents snapped at her, angry that she was ‘isolating herself’ even though she spoke often with friends. 

They claimed that she was ‘lonely’ even though she didn’t feel such a way, that she would regret not having kits while she was still able to, even though Jaggedbriar never had the stirrings. 

They began to say how others were thinking she was weird, that to save her own image and the image of her kin, she had to settle down with a mate and, better yet, bear his kits.

So she gave in. She accepted Lionroot’s latest offer, and soon enough fell pregnant with kits. It was a small litter, that she was happy for. One precious, little she-kit.

She didn’t love Lionroot, but she did care for her daughter. It wasn’t her fault that Jaggedbriar was forced into having her. While Little Nightpaw trained how to hunt and fight, Jaggedbrair also took the time to teach her how to be a good Clanmate, respecting others’ bounderies, and how to be a supportive friend, etc.

Then Jaggedbriar’s brother died.

His bloodline was gone, and Jaggedbriar’s parents began pestering Nightflower into settling down with a mate and having kits.

No.

No.

She loved her daughter, but it is not the life she wanted. And she will be damned if she will allow the same scenario to happen to her. She told off her parents, but they persisted, speaking to Nightflower behind her back.

Nightflower confided in her mother, admitting that the pressure was getting to her, but that she did not want to have a mate.

Jaggedbriar saw no other way around it. She got the idea when she noticed a crickety tree, loosened from the soil after the recent rainfall. She would only need to dig a little bit before it fell.

She couldn’t afford to go wrong.

And she didn’t.

Moons later, a tom kept pestering Nightflower, trying to get her to become his mate and insisting that she liked him and should just admit it.

He had to stop talking.

So she tore his tongue out. She only meant to injure him, and even then didn’t mean to be so brutal, but the rage had gotten to her, and he drowned on his blood.

Nightflower eventually came to her mother, nervously announcing that she found a mate. It was Goldenpetal, a she-cat. 

She was someone Nightflower wanted to be with. Jaggedbriar loved her daughter, and was glad that she could now have a happy life.

She only wishes to have lived longer to witness it.

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