Flytail
48 Moons
He/Him
Flytail blinked, surprised but not displeased, and pushed himself up from where he’d been lounging. His ears perked slightly, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his muzzle—a rare softness breaking through his usually sardonic shell. “Hunting training, huh?” he said, giving Foxpaw a thoughtful look. “Glad you came to me.” He stretched, muscles rippling under his pelt, and continued, more genuinely now, “You’ve got sharp instincts. Better than some of the warriors, honestly. Just need to smooth out the edges.” Flytail flicked his tail toward the camp entrance, his tone now edged with a bit more energy. “Let’s head out. Wind’s right, and prey’ll be moving. Time to see what you’ve really got.”
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Fits