"Something strange must've been in the fresh-kill this morning." He can't help but laugh at dynamic between the two. A puffball who's face and dry tone completely clashed with his humor-laced words, and an excitable blur of black drawing attention with his spirited show.
Either way, seems like they've got their troupe.
"S'ppose we should get a move on before Larkstripe sticks to the dirt there." The tall tabby shakes out his fur as he makes way for a camp exit, and his head tilts slightly as he considers their options.
"Should we walk along the edge of the thicket? The trees should block the cold winds."
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@
ghostwriter
@
Beau