Sable
| 25 moons | Rogue | he/him, tom |
A darkly-colored face pokes its way into her den. The cat's face twists into a frown. "How old are you, you old crow?" He asks, his tongue sharp. "I didn't expect another cat in these parts, yet here you are."' Whatever fire was in his eyes at first seems to harden into a cold look, as the tom realized this cat was not worth fighting.