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Post by Heronstrike on Sept 21, 2014 10:04:54 GMT 12
Being a cat who did not really enjoy the company of others, other than Sorreltail, the tom lingered around the territory, eventually plopping himself down onto the fresh new snow underneath him and dunked his face into the snow until his face began to burn. He did not care really, it was his meditation per say, but then got back up, shaking off his coat, before heading back to the camp. That was, until he saw another cat's pawprints in the snow. He frowned. They were not his. He would know his anywhere. Was someone stalking him? The tom growled, hackles rising a bit. Whoever it was probably knew he was the deputy. The deputy. The title just ruined him, and he started following the trail.
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Post by Giftstar on Sept 21, 2014 16:22:23 GMT 12
ICESTAR who had been tracking a goat stopped and sniffed the air "heronstrike?" she called
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Post by Heronstrike on Sept 23, 2014 11:56:07 GMT 12
He heard the familiar voice of his leader, and called back. "Icestar? What are you doing?"
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Post by Giftstar on Sept 23, 2014 16:10:25 GMT 12
"hunting" she replied and followed his scent trail
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