Logophile; a person who loves words.
Bramblepaw was an oddly social cat.
Most cats he met—whether at gatherings or just generally asocial cats in his own clan—expected him to be shy and nervous and had a tendency to talk to him in soft-spoken tones. He wasn't angered by even the most angering of things, yet cats practically avoiding him for his outwardly appearance ruffled his fur the wrong way.
On the other hand, his sister Lilypaw appeared the most sociable of cats. She walked around with a goofy, confident grin and was generally friendly. Yet the mere thought of spending extended amounts of time clumped together with others caused her almost immediate frustration. In fact, as a kit, she had constantly snuck away from the nursery unnoticed practically every day. During these times, the only thing keeping her escapes a secret happened to be the fact that everyone perceived her as a squeaky, extroverted kitten who clung to their mother like tree sap to fur. Oh, how they were so, so wrong.
"Neva' read a book by it's cover," Lilypaw used to mumble under her breath.
The times where she got caught were rare, but also earned her a significant nickname: quickpaws.
Bramblepaw had a tendency to wish that he had a nickname like his sister; maybe it'd get him more attention, thus more time to socialize. Besides, his sister hated the attention she got. At least, he was pretty sure she did. It was hard to tell with her.
Lilypaw is massively odd, he thought to himself, staring up at the highrock as he was appointed a mentor…his…father's former lover? Tangledfur?
He had to admit, it was a…noticeable choice. He could see his mother blink in surprise, his father's ears pin a slight bit.
And the moment their leader, Robinstar, appointed his own father as Lilypaw's mentor…hell, something had to be going on.
He let himself sink back into his thoughts as Robinstar began rambling on—that tom never knew when to shut his mouth, despite being WindClan's proud leader.
But, on the note of his sister…Lilypaw had a tendency to shorten words, like she was so deep into her thoughts and so done caring about the ones around her that maybe rendering her sentences almost incomprehensible would make her clanmates leave her alone. It was a bit ironic, considering she was the sister to him, who was the most wordy cat ever.
However, he did tend to screw up word meanings. By this, he meant he wasn't the best at using the right words, and sometimes he just overall went overkill with fancy words.
He decided to completely zoom out of his mind as soon as Tangledfur nudged him, fear prickling through his fur. Out of the corner of his eyes he watched her shoot a glance up at Robinstar. It took Bramblepaw a few seconds, but he almost immediately realized. They were doing the apprentice pledge!
For a few seconds, he was embarrassed. But at the same time, when he was standing in the sunlight with his sister and mentor at his side and a beaming smile parting his lips, he couldn't be happier.
-
"Soo...what're we doin' t'day?"
"Be patient, sweetheart," Tangledfur purred to Lilypaw, and tossed a glance at Chestnutpelt.
The tom smiled softly.
"What are we doing on this magnificent day?" Bramblepaw decided to reinforce the question, and followed it by grooming his chest hastily.
Behind him, he could hear Lilypaw giggle and snort; he tried not to show his absolute embarrassment.
"Nice words." his father grunted, pawing him playfully.
Bramblepaw flicked his ears as heat rushed to his face. He absolutely hated it when anybody made fun of his...more wordy dialogue. It honestly made him want to curl up into a small, teeny ball until he turned invisible, thus giving him an escape from the flusterment. Unfortunately for him, no clan cat ever had a history of doing such thing. Shoot.
"We're finally here!" Tangledfur finally announced, coming to a halt. "Run along, kiddos, we're gonna learn a ton today."
As they walked along, Bramblepaw couldn't help but admire the she-cat's motherly nature. He bore a toothy grin and glanced up at her, but her eyes were on Chestnutpelt, who now happened to be leading the way towards a patch of dirt.
The tom leaned over into his sister's ear. "Do you see the wonderful her?" He hissed, a tang of excitement lacing it's way into his voice, "what if Tangledfur and dad end up together, as loving mates?"
Lilypaw immediately flinched and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Gross. Mom wouldn' like that."
Bramblepaw frowned. "Mom would be delighted at dad forming a new romantic bond! She's been sick for practically many moons now; you know what the intelligent medicine cats said…" He insisted, even going to poke his sister on the shoulder; however, she seemed opposed at the idea of physical affection and shrugged her way away.
In that moment he became aware of his father, Chestnutpelt, staring at them with a blank, sullen look. Bramblepaw tried not to flinch; his father always seemed to know what they were discussing and what they were thinking. In this case, there was no denying it.
"Come on," his father called in an almost ominous voice, "We can't keep Tangledfur waiting."
As the brown-furred tom turned around, Lilypaw gently nipped Bramblepaw on the shoulder. The cheery feline immediately jumped in fear, eyes wild and breathing ragged.
When he turned for an explanation from his sister, there was none. She simply stared at him blankly.
"Ya heard em'," she almost growled, "jump alon'. I'll catch up soon."
The ginger tabby frowned. "You sure?" but soon whipped around regardless. His sister would probably fix him with a glare that translated into "I'm in a bad mood, leave me alone now or face my moodiness even more".
This upset the tabby. His sister was almost always cheery as ever, even sporting the stereotypical happy-go-lucky calico she-cat look, but once you got onto a topic she didn't like—especially one that involved or referenced change—she was down in the dumps and seemed angry at everything and everyone.
Bramblepaw had to come to a halt to avoid ramming into Tangledfur's legs. Speaking of the she-cat, she was now looking back worriedly at Lilypaw. I don't blame her, he thought, and even almost mumbled the words out loud.
"You staying behind for…" Chestnutpelt trailed off, and Bramblepaw caught sight of his father not too far ahead. Tangledfur nodded in response, and came to a complete stop; the tom apprentice decided to scurry ahead.
"So, what are we doing on this great day?" Bramblepaw cheered as soon as he was side-by-side with his father.
The tom chuckled; Chestnutpelt wasn't the wordiest cat, either—just like Lilypaw. "Looking around the borders," he mused.
"Are the borders cool?"
Chestnutpelt stopped, as if thinking for a word that'd reach Bramblepaw's standards of approval. "…Extremely."
A tooth poked out of the corner of Bramblepaw's mouth as a grin stretched across his muzzle. "That was a nice vocabulary word," he meowed.
Chestnutpelt grunted. "Glad I got my son's approval."
The pair reached a river before long, which was wispy with spray from the rushing stream. Slimy stones rimmed the brook's edge, giving the water a special, complementary shine along with it. The fact that the grass grew a little more green along the sides and the water was clear and healthy made Bramblepaw's heart skip a few beats. He loved nature.
"Pretty cool, huh?" his father breathed, flicking his tail. Bramblepaw was about to speak, but saw his mentor's mouth open first and decided shutting his mouth would be politer. "This is the stream that leads to the moonpool. ThunderClan territory also happens to be right across, so I wouldn't…attempt to go across."
"I'd get my ears chewed off?" Bramblepaw joked.
"…Exactly."
As the day passed on and Chestnutpelt made short statements about everything they arrived at, Bramblepaw couldn't help but think about Lilypaw. He could only assume her and her mentor were tagging behind. However, curiosity killed the cat, and he opened his jaws.
"Dad?"
Chestnutpelt paused in the middle of his sentence and grunted.
Bramblepaw forced a smile to cover up the fact he was practically squirming in panic. "Do you have any idea where Lilypaw is?"
The tom took a few seconds to think, taking a deep breath. "Probably training with her mentor."
Bramblepaw's heart sunk. Did she do that because she simply is frustrated at me? StarClan, please don't let her be angry at me! "…O-Oh. I thought she was going to train with us!"
"She probably will tomorrow," Chestnutpelt sighed, pawing at a daisy. His amber eyes glimmered and his rough, brown tabby pelt was matted in various places.
Besides the matted fur, Bramblepaw could see his father in himself; the brown tabby pelt [only paler], the small, pudgy build…
That said, he could also see his mother in himself! His mother was a short and chubby cream-base calico with emerald green eyes. The olive eyes and cream muzzle had been the parts he inherited, much to his pride.
However, his throat tightened the more he related himself to his mother. Even if I inherited a lot from her…oh, StarClan please don't tell me I inherited her…her…
Before he could finish his thought, his dad was already a few pawsteps away, beckoning him forwards.
Bramblepaw followed without another thought.