Rootclaw
He/him
The brown lynx point nearly tripped over his paws on his way to the entrance of the den. Huffing, he glared at them. The tips of his claws, as always, were poking out of the fluffy tufts on his toes. Shaking his head, he blew the long, brownish grey fur out from in front of his eyes. Peeking his head into the medicine den, he searched for Cowtuft.
"Hello? Cowtuft, are you-" Rootclaw broke off in a bout of coughing. His voice was gravely when he picked his sentence back up.
Are- you, are you in here?" he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head. A minor headache had set in recently, making it difficult for the tom to focus on things as good as he should be able to.
@
x ghostie