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The ebony creature was rustling through the dense foliage, cobalt blue spheres lazily scanning the scene. Everything looked the same, smelled the same, and felt the same, so what was the point? His tails trailed behind, brushing the large leave with a thick musky scent-- mainly used so he could track his way back into the damn camp. Finding out he had wandered into a circle, the kitsune lashed out and sank his thickly-curved claws into a nearby tree. Pulling away, the male huffed and let out an irritated grunt.
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