My Mother
A tribute to my mother...in Warriors form! Not connected to any story I have written. Rated for references to battle, blood, and death.
T Warriors FanFiction Family/Friendship No character file
My mother.
That's all she's ever been, but she's so much more than that.
My father was the Clan deputy, if you can believe it.
She was an important cat.
She was weaving brambles into the nursery the day she kitted.
She cared for her Clan, her mate, and her unborn kits.
She had three of us, a tom and two she-cats.
She raised us with more love than I can conceive.
I remember when I first opened my eyes and marveled at her beauty. Some might call her "plain" or "a bit pretty," but to me she is the most beautiful she-cat in the world.
She chastised my brother when he tried to slip out of camp through the dirtplace. We called her a "killjoy" and "overprotective," but now I see that she saved my brother's life; another queen's kit was taken by a hawk soon after.
I grieved for the dead tom-kit, but I was secretly in wonder of my mother's love. She really had meant it when she said it wasn't safe outside of camp.
When we were six moons old, we became apprentices. My mother gave up her nest in the nursery and returned to warrior duties with a fierceness we hadn't seen before.
I remember how she came with us on our first patrol. The three of us got to leave our scent on the border between ThunderClan and WindClan.
Even though border marking is perfectly normal for a warrior, our mother was proud of us and happy with us.
She visited us when we spent our first night in the apprentices' den and removed that tick from behind my brother's ear. He complained that he was old enough to do it himself, but I think my mother reveled in treating us like kits one last time.
At the time of our first battle, WindClan had been prey-stealing for a half moon. Our leader told them off several times, but the rabbit-hearts didn't take his warnings and threats seriously. Next thing we knew, WindClan had set markers inside our territory!
How dare they? Our leader voiced the outraged question from Highledge as he gathered cats to ambush their next border patrol. My brother and I got to come along, but my sister had to stay behind.
I remember how my blood ran hot and my fur stood on end as we waited in silence behind bushes. I remember how my brother sneezed terribly when a snowflake landed on his nose! My mother scolded him, but it was laced with love; even more evident was fear for her son's life.
Our leader yowled the battle cry while the flea-pelts marked the border. We surged forward, different cats of one Clan. My mother couldn't protect both of us at once; after my father voiced that fact, she left us to chase a WindClan cat out of our territory. She clawed his ears so fiercely that blood stained the grass and he yowled for mercy.
Ha, I never knew that my mother could fight so well. She hunted like a hawk and fought like the Clans of old. She seemed like a fierce lioness defending her territory with tooth and claw.
My brother and I exercised partner fighting during that battle. But when three huge tomcats cornered us, my father and mother scared them so badly that they ran into us instead of away.
My brother received a slice across the muzzle during the battle, and I felt as if my tail were on fire. I winced as I put an injured paw to the ground.
Our leader had the WindClan leader pinned with his paw on her throat. She spat and writhed, but our leader had won.
"Give us what is rightfully ours," he growled, "else your blood will flow alongside your Clanmates'."
She hissed fiercely and agreed with flattened ears. She called the retreat, and they were gone.
We had won!
After the battle, my mother personally applied the herbs to our pelts despite a bite so bad it made her limp. My paw was just sprained; during my days of recovery, my mother visited me after every patrol.
Moons later, a fox made a den on our territory. We drove it out, but not before it nearly bit my mother's head off.
My brother had decided to flush it out through a different tunnel despite the leader's firm disagreement. She, for it was indeed a vixen, flushed him out instead. It lunged for my brother's throat, and my mother shielded him and attacked in one heartbeat. The Clan leader had to save her, but she refused to offer remorse.
"He's my son," she told him with a spark of defiance.
We received our warrior names soon after. My mother cheered loud enough to wake StarClan.
My father was horribly injured by a badger and died a moon later. My mother wailed and cried mournfully and watched the stars at night.
She was still there for us.
My brother received an apprentice first, all the while eyeing the deputyship like a hawk. He was young and ambitious, to be sure. The current deputy was a senior warrior with a muzzle that grew grayer every day, and joints that grew stiffer after every hunt.
One day, the deputy went out and never returned.
My brother's eyes were distant, but he was elated when he was made deputy.
His apprentice became a warrior, albeit a poor one. Her eyes were haunted, and she scarcely ate.
She confessed it to me one day: my brother had killed the deputy.
I was shocked.
I confided in my mother.
She was so astonished, I thought she was traumatized. Her eyes glazed over, and I feared I had hurt her inside with the news.
Finally she sighed and went to tell the leader.
He took no time in demoting my brother to the rank of warrior and putting him on apprentice tasks for a moon.
My mother talked with him often in soft, grave tones.
Finally, after his moon of chores was over, my brother expressed remorse for what he had done and begged forgiveness from the Clan. He was accepted as a loyal warrior, although it took another battle for him to prove his loyalty.
But my mother had never stopped loving him.
And I will love her too, even when we're both in StarClan.
Dedicated to my mother, who has raised me with love and godliness.