bottlecaplogs | April Catch-all

"Oh, wow."

He's only a kitten, after all, so it makes sense, but somehow it never really occurred to her that it could have been that long. It must feel strange, she thinks, whether he likes it here or not.

"... Maybe. Just don't get too normie on me, all right? Being the same as everyone else isn't all it's cracked up to be."

His whiskers twitch again. This time, there's no fake laugh to go with it.

"I wouldn't know - I've always been pretty different from everyone around me. My housecat friends thought it was weird that I wanted to explore the woods, and my Clanmates made comments all the time about me being a 'kittypet'." He says it like it's a slur. "I think it would be nice to not stick out, for once."

"That's rough, buddy."

There's genuine commiseration in her voice, but she still can't help giving an amused snort at kittypet and the seriousness he says it with. His feline terms and mannerisms may be weird, but that's exactly what makes them so charming, she thinks.

"Just don't want you to think that you have to fake it all the time." There's a brief, uncertain pause before she continues, more solemnly, "When you get so hung up on things like that—not sticking out, making everybody comfy... you'll never get the chance to figure out who you even are, really. I would know."

He watches her curiously, unsure if he can press for more information about her. Shoka seems a lot less willing to talk about herself than other folk he knows, but... maybe not the least willing.

"You don't seem like someone who worries about that very much." He muses. "But... I don't know much about your world, I guess."

And what he does know, he barely understands. Twolegs are still very alien to him, even now that most of his friends are Twolegs.

"You're right—I don't. Couldn't care less if anybody likes me or not."

He's also right that she prefers not to talk too much about herself. Even so, she's trying to make a point right now, and she can't imagine him judging her for it.

"But things used to be pretty different for me. I used to not have much choice. Kinda had to be faking it all the time and just go along with whatever everybody else wanted me to be... Never felt like I could ever be my own person, y'know?" Y'know, she says, as if the literal kitten could grasp the inherently Twoleg things behind her reasoning—parents, tradition and expectations, a whole life mapped out for her before she was even born. Maybe he can, in his own cat society way. Still, a flicker of shame prompts her to tug subconsciously on the ears of her disguise. "It sucked, living like that. I couldn't stand it."

As she worries at her false ears, it occurs to her:

"... Maybe I've got no right to talk. Wearing this dumb thing all the time so your heads don't all explode or whatever, hah."

Honestly, he finds her attitude aspirational, even if he doesn't think he'll ever reach that level of self-confidence.

And he does understand where she's coming from a little bit, although mostly from a distance. (He will understand it better in the future, once life forces his apprentice to become a medicine cat instead.) ThunderClan has rules and traditions and expectations, and while he's seen some of his friends chafe against it, he never really had any issues with it until he spent time away.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that... and you have to wear that temporary-pelt. I really hate how cloth feels on my fur." His tone is still genuine, even while he's trying to lighten the mood. "But if it helps... I'm really glad you're here. And I don't think anyone here expects you to be anyone but yourself."

"I did get through it though, right?" She didn't, really; in the end, it killed her. Shinjuku's Composer just decided to give her a second chance for some reason, despite her never asking for one. "It isn't like that for me now. So no big. And I don't have fur—or skin, so..."

So the temporary-pelt doesn't bother her—not in that way, at least. She titters.

I'm really glad you're here, he says. Her laughter stops for a moment, and her claws slowly drop away from her ears as she turns to stare at him, as if in disbelief. He's only a kitten, after all, with the friendly, accepting nature of one—but she still doesn't seem to know how to respond to that.

Eventually, she manages to laugh again under her breath to mask how off kilter that left her.

"Pfft... I bet some of 'em wish I would be, even if they don't expect it. I know I've got a knack for pissing people off." Still, the people and Pokémon here have shown her a remarkable amount of patience—noticing things about her, taking her places, saying they're glad she's here. Her voice shrinks. "But... thanks. It... means a lot."

It genuinely does, even though she knows Firepaw's kind of just like that with everyone (and even though she thinks he doesn't really know her at all).

"Don't go giving me special treatment though. Pretty sure no one here really expects you to be anything else either... Honestly, we're all a little freakish compared to each other. And if you weren't being so you, I might not have even talked to you. And that would've sucked..."

"You're right - I would've missed out on eating bitter malasadas, and coughing up a hairball afterward." He nudges her playfully with a paw.

She is right, though - no one has put much pressure on him to act in any particular way (except maybe Doc wanting Firepaw to stop grooming him). He should probably... at least try not to get so hung up on being the only cat. Easier said than done, but he can set a goal for himself at least.

Shoka gently bats his paw away with a giggle. "Hey, you gotta expand that kitten palate somehow."

She contemplates the flicker of the lanterns below. It really is nice up here. Maybe too nice, relaxed and above it all, making her speak a little too freely.

"... Hey. Firepaw was only your name as an apprentice or whatever, right?" It might be a bit of a non sequitur, but she's been thinking about it since he mentioned his warrior name at the start of their conversation. "When we first met, you said you were gonna get it changed—once you got back. Since you're sticking around here, becoming a full-fledged guild member and all... Think you'll change it up? Or keep it?"

He has to really think about that. He has been thinking about it every once in a while, although he never came up with an answer. It feels different answering to someone else.

"I'm not sure." He murmurs. "Our leader, Bluestar, was in charge of naming warriors. If I stayed in ThunderClan, one day I'd have a name like... Firetail or Firefur, or something like that. Picking my own feels disrespectful, but so does going back to my old housecat name. So... I guess I'll stay as Firepaw."

He doesn't know what cats do with their name if they leave the Clans - it's almost unheard of to leave in the first place.

"Sounds good to me," she replies, showing great restraint in not suggesting a name like Firedork. "You bummed out about that at all though? You did seem pretty psyched about getting a new one."

"Yes? A little." A lot. "Warrior names aren't everything, but they're... a sign of maturity. Like you're a full member of the Clan, not just someone learning how to be helpful. Keeping an apprentice name sort of feels like choosing to remain a kitten."

Maybe it would be even more difficult to handle if he was Clanborn - as it is, it feels a little like he's explaining a culture that isn't entirely his own, which feels bad in its own way.

"Well... You could always pick something brand new for yourself, if you ever change your mind on staying Firepaw. Something that isn't a Clan name or your housecat name."

"Maybe. I'll have to think about it.. and pick something really cool."

Not that he has any ideas, because naming yourself feels a lot more difficult than accepting a name from someone else.

April Catch-all

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