"I'm no-one's friend but hers."
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There was something blissful about this place, Ihles decided. He’d been sitting in his tree for about an hour now, watching the comings and goings, and nobody had seen or smelled him. It must be all the muck in his fur. The ascent from his damp but beloved Abyss, followed by a quick roll in the dust to dry himself, had not been good for his silky hide, and he was now more brown than white. I must look like a stray kittypet, he thought.
HawkClan’s camp had not been difficult to locate. He’d spoken with the river cats; follow the water, they’d said. Find the castle. The Hawks make their dens in the castle.
Should he wait? Catch a Hawk alone? Ihles could always stroll up to the camp itself and demand to be heard, but like an idiot, he’d forgotten to ask about the clan’s temperament. BloodClan had not been particularly accommodating - the clue was in the name, he guessed. Stupid. He’d escaped by the hairs on his tail.
Now, the forest was quiet. Was it always like this, at this time of day? It seemed he would have no choice but to risk the castle. He lowered himself swiftly and silently from the tree. Climbing was his forte, he thought smugly. If only he had a teacher, perhaps he could learn more useful skill sets.
