A very young cat had been walking for what seemed like ages. Nowhere to go, nowhere to stay, just wandering the world on his own. Wolf was alone. He kept walking until he encountered a strong smell. It was the Thunderclan border. He slowly went through. He was lost, cold, hungry, and very much terrified. The kit travelled further away from the border, deep into the Thunderclan territory. He was exhausted, but kept going. The kit was walking a bit wobbly, due to his exhaustion.
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95° F - 105° F
Greenleaf is in full flush. Temperatures reach nearly unbearable hights. Long-furred cats should stray from the sun.
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Grasspaw didn't often go out alone, he was far too worried about predators. However, something had pulled him from camp today. The young tom flicked his ears, before startling when sharp fear-scent, mingled with an unfamiliar scent hit his nose. Following the scent, he soon came across the young kit, wobbling as if he hadn't eaten in days.
"Oh, Starclan, why me-!" Grasspaw furrowed his brow as he padded toward the kit quickly. "Come on, let's get you to safety..." He mewed, picking up the kit by the scruff.