Re: RiverClan Clearing
Troutstone entered from the apprentice den. It had taken him longer than he thought to patch it up, and now his shadow stretched long in the weak evening sunlight. The grey tom puffed a breath. His paws felt like falling off; it had been a long day before he was assigned this punishment. Still, he did not regret his decision of defying Dusklion. Troutstone wasn't a killer, and if he had to live with his old name for however long, then he would do it with his tail high.
Now doing just that, the grey tom began inspecting the camp walls for holes.
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Ain't much that I know what to put 'ere...
"And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." - Haymitch
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