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To put it simply, Sarathi was tired. Oh so very tired. His life had been long, twisted into paths that he hadn't expected. Some were good, some were bad, but he regretted none. A smirk pulled at his lips. The tom had wanted so much to be like his father, follow in his pawsteps. But what good would that have done? He would not be making his own legacy. Only replicating someone else's. What good was a life if it was being lived in someone else's shadow? Worthless, in his opinion.
Trotting with a fastened pace through the snowed setting, he slowed once he had reached the edge of his group's land, sitting his hindquarters down in wait. Sarathi had met a wonderful she-cat recently, one that he loved, appreciated and had wanted to give kits to. She'd be quite far along by now, and would have them soon. The only problem was that she was from ShadowClan, a clan that he hated, that Skull hated. When the kits were born, they'd grow up there. He couldn't go with them, and he couldn't bare wanting to split any from their mother, even though he always wanted to be a father.
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