[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; height: auto; text-align:justify;font-size:11px;]The pale brown tomcat had traveled a long distance to arrive in the territory of what he presumed was RushingClan. Well, it certainly felt like a long distance, considering both clans considered the mountains to be their home. It was especially difficult to travel knowing that The Exiles could very well be leading another raid on them at the very moment. Oh well, there was nothing he would be able to do about that.
The fifty-two-moon-old tomcat smelled scent boundaries, noticing that he must be close. Stopping at the very edge of the waterfall-dwelling clan's border, he tipped his head back, nose high up, potentially sniffing out any cats. He had come on business of SylvanClan, for the potential request of an alliance. Now, all he could do was wait.