โRuststar sat alone in his den, the dim light filtering through the bramble walls as the scent of pine and fresh moss clung to the air. A plump vole lay between his paws, its rich, gamey scent filling his nose as he tore off a precise bite. Outside, the steady murmur of PineconeClan filled the clearingโwarriors sharing tongues, apprentices sparring in the dirt, the distant call of a border patrol. His ears flicked at every shift in the camp, always alert.โ
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