Winterpaw nodded silently, following after the large gray warrior. He closely observed his surrondings for any goldenrod to harvest or hives to get honey from, focused on his work but still soaking in the gentle rays of sun and the sweet smell of the fields. It was always nice to enjoy the territory while out on patrols.
(winterpaw rolls a 17!)
Soon his yellow eyes landed on a patch of fuzzy stalks swaying in the breeze. "Is that the goldenrod?", he meowed to Hollowfoot, gesturing with a turn of his head.
@
RoboPrism