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AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN
Shadowclans new territory was a win and a loss in Wolfs eyes. No snow, no shortage of prey, no overcrowding from too many cats.
But it was also wet, and dirty, and filled with weird prey.
It wasn't bad, but it certainly wasn't what many of his new clanmates seemed to desire out of a new home. And Wolf could understand why. There was a fine line between living and surviving. The strongest cat in the world could live a long life and still have the entire thing feel like a waste of their time and efforts if they didn't squeeze enough enjoyment out of it along the way. And he'd never been the sort of cat to encourage settling for second best if you knew you could take first.
But not wasn't the time. Even if the other cats were to convince Sable to guide them elsewhere for a better, dryer stretch of land, it was still the middle of winter. Better to keep what they had for now and then expand outward later, then risk what mild comforts they had on a whim.
He could only imagine how much Manzanitapaw would whine if they were made to travel anywhere in the cold.
Luckily, the marsh wasn't without it's familiar comforts, and Wolf had lucked out on one today. Instead of returning to camp that afternoon with a lizard or toad or one of the pocosins other odd prey items, the mottled feline strode in with a fat squirrel hanging from his jaws. As was typical for the tom, rather than deposit his catch on the small communal prey pile set out in camp, he strode over to a quiet spot and lay down to tuck into his meal.
OOC- @FleaKit

shadowclan deputy - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars
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