Twistedpath
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Curled to the closest edge of the den laid the young silver tom. Even in his smallest of state he still seemed to show his large demeanor. Just his body laying down was tall enough to completely cover his moss bedding, and then some. Slowly his chest rose and fell, yet he was not asleep. Deep copper-colored eyes wandered aimlessly around his sleeping quarters, his mind bored
Taking in a deep breath of the crisp air, he turned his large frame, pulling his one twisted limb closer to himself. Wouldn't be the first time he has tripped someone with it unknowingly. Who knew being born wrong would be such a curse? Truly he was thankful. He had adapted and overcame his predicament, but just the factor of not being perfect...well that weight was heavy.