BrambleHEART

ThistleClan

cinnamon ticked tabby tom with yellow eyes

Despite being born to parents who boast tall and slender limbs, Brambleheart is on the smaller side, particularly concerning his stature and lithe musculature. Moons of training and eating plentiful prey have helped Brambleheart fill out his slender and wiry build, though he is of meandering height and weight, at least compared to his ThistleClan kin. Nearly passing in birth and only surviving as a runty, sickly kit, stunted his growth and prevented him from growing into a much larger cat.

Fortunately the tom does not need long limbs or a boasting frame to stand out in a crowd. Taking after his father, Bramblekit adorns a strikingly red pelt. Perhaps for better or for worse, the tom's long, cinnamon ticked coat creates a stark contrast against the dark pines and firs of the forest. In order to blend in, he must cover his fur in mud, which proves rather annoying due to his long, feathered pelt. His chin and breast are dusted with a lighter, cream-colored fur. While darker, rust brown strands of fur run down his flank and color his crown in faint tabby stripes.

Brambleheart mostly inherited his father's angular face. However, his cheeks are bit wider, more similar to his mother's broad visage. Tufts of white fur curl from his ears and settle upon his muzzle. He carries a sharp, yellow gaze, one much older than his current moons, and a dark ruddy nose. Adorning his face are long, trailing white whiskers.

Under his mother's shadow in the nursery, he learned to hold his body elegantly and speak formally by mimicking her. His voice is low for a kit and will only deepen with age. He talks as if he considers each world greatly, never meowing with impulse.

+ Agreeable, Gentle, Precocious, Perceptive, Disciplined
- Reserved, Solitary, Charmless, Repressed, Ascetic

Brambleheart has always been agreeable and mild-mannered. Even as a young kit, he was relatively quiet and docile compared to his more emotionally sensitive sister. Perhaps it was due to being runty and sickly, or perhaps it was always his innate nature to silently nod and follow orders. More reserved than most ThistleClan warriors, Brambleheart often spends his time alone, proving to be a solitary and lonely tom, even when surrounded by his peers. Not wanting to sully his father's reputation, Brambleheart always watches his den-mates from afar, too ascetic to indulge in their antics.

Despite keeping to himself, Brambleheart is very keen as to what goes on around him and abundantly perceptive. He easily picks up on his family's emotions and notices from an early age that his parents treat his sister differently than him. While not knowing why, he chooses to mimic their affections towards her and keeps their relationship superficial, despite longing to be closer. He knows he must uphold his family's legacy. Such a responsibility has forced Brambleheart to be rather restrained and inhibited regarding his true emotions and desires. As a kit, this manifests in his silent decree to please. Yet as he enters his apprenticeship, Brambleheart will realize just how difficult it is to repress such powerful emotions.

When out of camp, he is very gentle and sweet to his peers, especially those he holds deer. Despite acting much older than them, due to his mature and precocious nature, it is the only moments he can be his true self, a tom who desperately wants to live among his den-mates and procure a normal life. Unfortunately his time spent with adults has made him rather charmless and awkward around his den-mates since he does not know how to engage in age appropriate banter or how to talk 'their language.' This divide will only deepen as Brambleheart embarks on his journey as the leader's golden and infallible son.

For seasons, Juniperfang and Stagstar danced around their feelings for one another, until the blood moon rose above the pine forest. Bathed in crimson, they confessed their love to each other, and welcomed two kits into ThistleClan's already crowded nursery. However, only one kit survived through the frosty night. Yet before the dawn kissed the horizon, Stagstar returned to the nursery, a lone sopping kit hanging from his jowls, as if to make it right. She bore not only Juniperfang's banished sister's blood, but rogue blood as well. The newly made queen reluctantly accepted the kit into her brood.

Bramblekit is none the wiser, having grown beside his sister his entire life. Yet he can sense there's something different about Pinekit, something wrong. The ticked tabby can see it in his mother's eyes and hear it in his father's voice. They have different expectations for her, expectations that differ from his own as the leader's son.

At first, he thought it was because she was too emotional or sensitive or childish, so he did his best to abstain from emotional outbursts or engage in other kit games, but as they grew older, the word 'rogue' began to rear its ugly head into the nursery whenever Pinekit misbehaved, which was often. Bramblekit didn't really understand what a rogue was, but he knew it was bad.

Desperate to keep Pinekit out of trouble, Bramblekit spent most of his days in the nursery trying to temper her outbursts. A constant reminder of the rules, he became Juniperfang's second shadow. Only when they were completely alone did he ever reveal his true affections for his sister, and very rarely did they truly bond with one another and play games. Most of the time, however, Bramblekit abstained and kept to himself. He didn't understand kit games and much preferred lessons on manners and history instead.

As an apprentice, he was assigned to train under Owlfang, a senior warrior with seasons of experience under his pelt. Bramblepaw deeply respected the tom, and always tried to do his best when it came to training. Among his peers, he was awkward and hard to relate to. He didn't really enjoy apprentice games or witty ThistleClan banter. Truthfully he didn't understand the value of friendship. What purpose did it serve? His only concern was upholding his parent's reputation and earning his warrior name. Purposeless activities confused him.

A fox perhaps in the apprentice's den, Bramblepaw had no one to really talk to and grew lonely, though he'd never admit it. Even Pinepaw started to grow distant, weary of her brother's constant chiding. It was only the flood that brought them together again after Bramblepawsaved her and accompanied her to safety. A moment to strengthen their bond, Bramblepaw instead used it to chastise her carelessness. Annoyed, Pinepaw peeled away again, leaving Bramblepawto wonder — what's worth becoming a great warrior if there's no one to share it with?