Grouse Thicket They want to be loved by you

Bruges rolled his eyes as his sister prepared to judge him, and swiftly sidestepped when she went to shove him with her muzzle, instead allowing her whiskers to brush his fur, but denying her the pleasure of seeing him stumble. While Bruges did not have strength on his side, he was certainly cat-footed and nimble, and as his sister walked around him, he prepared for her to whump him again, giving her nothing more than a side-eye as she ambled alongside him, and when she thrust her shoulder up against him, he lowered himself quickly, stuck a foot out and swept it forward, hoping to trip her up. It worked, just enough so that she at least couldn't make him lose his own footing with her shove. 

The nickname she used caused him to raise his head. She used it in such a way to irk him, and it worked; as that wasn't a nickname he appreciated hearing from her. His own littermate had designed that one, and it was more a term of endearment than anything- the same way he called Niamh by the name of Junior- as she so resembled their mother. Hearing Fey's nickname from Niamh, however, didn't have the same ring to it, which was why he didn't like hearing it from anyone but his littermate. "Other ways, sister." He said. "Your brother will always be watching out for you," He said, and perhaps in that moment he was referring to Ambrose- who he was sure was likely going to disrupt Niamh's situation, the same way Bruges had affected Ambrose's pack.