Sable
| 25 moons | Rogue | he/him, tom |
"Hmph," he huffs, his tail twitching. He feels his pelt prickle in annoyance at her strange calmness. Perhaps a cat as old as her had little to fear? The tom's eyes rake over her form. "You're thin," he points out flatly. "It can't be a comfortable life."
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Red'fur