If there was ever an award for the most boring cat in LochClan, Graypaw would win it. She isn’t one to talk much, or react much, or emote much, or… do much, aside from breathe and eat and sleep. She listens to her authorities’ orders without any complaints or arguments, but she often doesn’t give any sign that she heard them before she wanders off to complete them. When cats speak to her, she stares them dead in the eye, not so much as twitching a whisker — she’s noticed that for some reason, this tends to unsettle others — and when she responds she speaks in monotone. The answers she gives are usually quite bland, as well, humming or just a few words or something of the like.

They wouldn’t find it very surprising if they found out that rumors were being spread that they were emotionless or didn’t care about their Clanmates, but that isn’t true. Most of the time, they’re just tired (they try to sleep well, they swear, they just… can't, and then they have to get up early and ugh why can’t LochClan just be nocturnal, honestly the night is so much better), and expressing their emotions just isn’t something they do; not because they don’t want to, but because they can’t. No matter how hard they try, they can’t get them to show themselves on their face, except for maybe a very obviously forced smile here and there. They can talk about them just fine, but something went wrong when it came to showing them.

She ends up keeping a lot of things to herself, and can find herself having trouble with sharing her inner thoughts and feelings with others, as she just isn’t used to doing it. Surprisingly enough, though, she’s quite good at comforting others. If she hears about a misfortune befalling a cat then she will stroll right up to them — does she know them? Doesn’t matter to her — and she will be blunt about it. If someone’s friend died, then she will greet them with that, and if someone’s mate left them for their enemy since kithood, then she will greet them with that. Then she will ask if they want to talk about it. A lot of the time, they do, and if they don’t, then she will tell them she will be open to listen if they ever want to and then wander off.

Perhaps conversely, they also enjoy getting to watch the drama unfold. This isn’t the reason why they’re so willing to sit down and discuss the troubles their Clanmates are going through (that’s just being a good member of LochClan, as far as they’re concerned), it is part of why they enjoy it so much.

Romance is probably the only thing she gets flustered about. If she were any other cat, tokens of affection or compliments would turn her into a stuttering, blushing mess. While she most certainly will blush about it, and there will also be plenty of internal screaming involved, her only response to any romantic gesture would be for her to say “thanks” or “you too”. Even, or maybe especially, if it’s a situation where “you too” doesn’t apply.

They can be awkward like that.

Born to a mated pair who only had kits because it was what was expected of them, Graypaw was the daughter they’d had on accident. Their older sister, Longanheart, was planned, but that doesn’t mean they cared for her any more than they did Graypaw. They did what they had to: kept her rested, kept her fed, kept her clean, but they never showed her much love. Most of the affection she got in her early life came from the other monarchs, other kits, or (very rarely) Longanheart. If she ever tried her parents’ patience, she was sure to be snapped at, and so Graypaw learned early not to do anything they wouldn’t like.

In essence, she had a normal but somewhat lonely kithood. She was apprenticed on time to Seaheart and has found herself enjoying her training, especially hunting, and she likes to spend time with someone who seems to actually like her. Having begun her training in the middle of the White Death, though, Graypaw felt a strong pressure to work as hard as she could and learn as fast as possible to start supporting LochClan.

A moon into her training, the blizzard happened.

Both her parents died.

And she felt like she should have felt something more than she did, but she felt almost nothing. She wonders if that makes her a bad cat, sometimes — surely, anyone else would have felt more grief?

She tries not to think about it.