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#warriors lore
tomfrogisblue · 2 months
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bro I'm gonna explode
q!philza is always shocked when people build their houses next to him, move into his basement, trust his judgement and advice, trust him with their lives
MY BROTHER IN CHRIST
the new member's first memories of this server are gonna be how you gave them waypoints, then money so they could use them, then explained the bounty system, then swooped in like a guardian angel when one of the players was downed all by herself
AND EVERY NEW MEMBER IS TREATED SIMILAR BY YOU
ANYTIME ANYONE ON THE SERVER NEEDS HELP, YOU SWOOP IN, AVOCADO TOAST IN HAND
I just wanna shake q!philza by the shoulders and yell in his self-depreciating face "YOU ARE A GOOD PERSON AND YOU ARE LOVED!"
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possumteeeth · 7 months
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Lambpaw, like every other healer apprentice before him, traveled to the Moonshell to be granted StarClan's approval. When he stared at his reflection in the massive, iridescent shell, he couldn't help but feel anxiety gnawing at him. His mentor, Salmonfleck, gently urged him on. Lambpaw touched his nose to the salty water within the shell.
He awoke in a place that nothing could have prepared him for. Gone were the lush forests and starry skies that Salmonfleck had told him of. Everything was dull and lifeless. The air was so still he could hear the blood in his veins. Fog shrouded the forest like a blanket. A single star hung in the grey sky, giving off cold light. Worst of all... there were no StarClan cats to be seen--
--until the fog began taking shape.
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gray-thistleclan · 4 months
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moon (FIRST TRANS CAT) 27
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juniper-clan · 2 months
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Moon 14: Birth of Venus
(AKA the twins!)
PREVIOUS l NEXT
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swordfangs · 1 year
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Asa voice No Denji your warrior cat cannot be named Chainsawstar
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redstonedust · 8 months
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theres one real reason id love to be a mcyt and its just that id want to see people intepret my minecraft skin.
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clanborn · 5 months
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Origins of the Bay Clans: Stone and the Lynx (Part 2)
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The tracks led inland, further than the cats of Stone’s little clan had yet dared to travel. She followed the river upstream, skirting the thrashing current as it threw itself against the banks. The forest grew denser, the hemlocks thicker, the sharp peaks of the mountains taller, casting the valley in deep shadow. All was silent but the river, and the sound of strange, buzzing bird calls that rang eerily through the trees. Though her heart trembled, Stone trekked on, her pawsteps guided by purpose and the tracks that still sat unmistakable in the mud.
Stone had never followed a river to its origin, had never even thought of it as a possibility. Water–rivers, oceans, rains–lived outside the boundaries of a lifespan, within birth and death. Rivers weren’t something that just began, or ended, they simply cycled–at least, that’s what she had believed. 
After hours spent unceasingly hiking through the valley, Stone emerged from the edge of the treeline. The pebbled ground spread flat in front of her, before abruptly spiking upward to form the range of mountains. Two peaks pierced the sky, and nestled between them was a landform unlike anything Stone had ever seen. The river rushed forward from the base of a giant white slope, a crystalline mass carved deep with blue crevices. 
The wall shone like a piece of the moon itself, bleeding into the valley, its essence spilling into the forest before winding its way to the Bay. As Stone drew closer, she realized with a shock that the structure was made of ice, frozen solid despite the warmth of late spring.
She halted at the river’s edge, looking upon the structure in wonder. Was the moon made of ice? Had a shard of it fallen from the heavens upon the mountains? What else could create a fortress so massive, so imposing yet nurturing, whose icy waters fed the land and the bay?
These questions swam through her mind, but she tossed them to the side with a flick of her ears. For now, the answers were unknowable, and she must remain focused on her task.
She shook out her pelt and continued her path: the ground now had turned to gravel, and she tracked by scent instead of footprints. The slope turned steep, then rocky, a gray mountain face broken only by patches of unmelted snow and determined shrubs. Below her, the mass of ice gleamed, stretching out beyond the peaks like a blinding white sea. 
As she continued along the mountainside, she noticed an opening in the cliff face, a dark entrance where the ice field met the mountain. She quickened her pace until she reached the cave entrance, standing on the barrier of darkness. Here, the scent she was tracking hung in the air, strong as ever, leading her into the blackness. She slipped into the cave without a second thought
Inside was a large cave, and she quickly crossed the open stretch of ground to the back, where a darker shadow lay. A tunnel.
Curiosity drove her forward, driving away any fear she might have felt. Down into the tunnel she tread, deeper and deeper into the veins of the mountain. For ages she was guided by scent alone, and the narrow tunnel walls pressing on all sides. An eternity of darkness. 
Finally, Stone saw light, a blue glow that softly spilled into the end of the tunnel. Her footsteps quickened, and the cat entered into a cavern. Her breath hitched as she stepped into the light, awed by the sight before her. A medium sized cave rose around her, walls of smooth, layered stone arcing above her. The stone was washed with blue, for one wall was made not of rock, but entirely of ice. It was a deep, rich blue, as sunlight filtered down into the fragment of icy moon.
Within the ice wall’s bubbles and cracks hung an even stranger sight. A giant skeleton, ancient and fragmented, was trapped frozen in the ice, the remains of a creature Stone had never seen before. Though it’s thick bones and long, curved fangs were utterly unfamiliar, something in Stone knew it had once called itself catkin. A forgotten ancestor.
In front of the ice, sitting still and gray as the rocks around it, was a towering feline silhouette, its tufted ears outlined by the cold light. Stone’s fellow, wild catkin cousin. The Lynx.
The Lynx turned its gaze towards her slowly, expectantly, like it had known about her presence even before she did. Stone approached it, wary. 
“I admire your tenacity, cat” Its voice was a gravelly purr. “I thought you’d stop at the treeline.”
Stone skirted the wall carefully, keeping several pawsteps of distance between her and the creature. “Why did you assume that?”
The Lynx wrinkled its nose in a wry smirk. “Well, look at you. You’re an imitation of a cat. This wilderness is unfit for your kind.”
Stone flattened her ears, attempting to keep her voice level. “What exactly do you mean?”
“You call yourselves ‘cats’, yet your kind feeds by human hands. You have grown small and thin-furred, distant from your nobler origins. You can only survive in little packs, reliant on the work of others, unable to face nature with your own merit—A true ‘cat’ walks in solitude, you know nothing of the sort.”
Stone looked beyond the Lynx to the ice wall behind it, where the massive bones of their great ancestor lay suspended in time. “You say my kind has fallen, but have yours not? Have you not also grown smaller than this god, your fangs short, your bones thin? It too lived in solitude, yet here it lies, dead, its life unremembered by its catkin. You mock my community, but we have lived this long despite this lands’ harshness, and will continue to do so.”
The Lynx’s smug expression faded, and its gaze grew intense as it stared at Stone. “Even gods die, housecat. The only thing life guarantees is an ending.” It curled its lip. “Your ‘community’ is not exempt from this.”
Stone met its eyes, unwavering. “If we are catkin, what bars me from the same powers you possess? Surely I can learn to survive by your means, surely I can find access to your blessings.”
The Lynx almost laughed, but the scoff caught in its throat. It narrowed its eyes, suddenly thoughtful, the smirk creeping back up its muzzle.
“Maybe I can offer you a taste of godhood, little cat. The lives of my predecessors run through me, from the tip of my tail through all ten of my claws.” The deity sat back on its haunches and held up its massive paws in demonstration. For a brief moment, its claws twinkled with a faint light, like stars plucked straight from the sky.
“One of these is mine, of course. But I have nine to spare.” It tilted its head down at her, its fangs gleaming in the blue cavern light. “Provided I deem you worthy of them.”
Stone raised her head in challenge. “What would make me worthy?”
The Lynx paused to consider, eyeing her up and down. 
“To you alone I will grant these lives, thus you alone must face me.” The lynx narrowed its eyes. “Prove to me your will and strength, and defeat me in battle. If I submit, I grant you these lives, and the chance to explore this bay with greater distance between death and yourself.”
“Your loss, of course, will cost you your life.” It dipped its head towards her. “Is it a deal?”
Stone paused, hesitant, her heart fluttering in her chest. How could she face this creature in her state, small in stature, weary from her climb, completely alone? Despite her apprehension, her curiosity was stronger. There was only one chance for an opportunity like this, and even if she declined, what would stop the Lynx from killing her anyway?.
She nodded once. “I accept your terms.”
The lynx nodded back. Its fangs flashed. It stretched its claws. 
They leapt into battle.
Stone was swift, but the Lynx was strong and skilled. It battered her with massive paws, slamming her into the cold rocky floor. Stone dodged and weaved through its attacks, but the cavern was small, and every leap Stone made seemed to send her into another faceful of claws.
Her opponent threw a powerful swipe, tossing her against the ice wall with a thud. Back against the blue glow, Stone crouched low, struggling to catch her breath. Her strength was waning, and Stone knew with every moment her chances of victory grew slimmer. Her paws shook slightly. The Lynx had noticed her waver, and began to pad towards with calm, sure steps. It smiled–it was eager to finish her off. How could she win this?
She thought of the cats–the clan–she had left behind, who likely waited anxiously for their wayward leader’s return. Would they falter without her guidance? Would the glimmer of hope she had lit in their hearts snuff out with fear? If only she could lead them to the majestic moon glacier, show them the ethereal ancient glow of the blue cave, renew their spirits with wonder at the wilderness they were trapped in. Stone suddenly stiffened, steeling herself as she lifted her gaze back toward her foe. Though she fought alone in the cavern, her mind conjured the presence of her clan behind her. She would not die here. She would die among the cats she had befriended, who had banded together in their time of need. The cats she needed, who needed her to return alive.
With a burst of vigor, Stone launched herself toward the lynx’s head, her weight and confidence catching it off guard. She clung to its face, slashing its ears, her momentum sending it crashing hard into the floor. It flailed its huge paws, but Stone stood steadfast upon its chest, pressing her own paws down forcefully against its throat. Her claws dug in, blood welled up around her toes. The lynx grew more panicked, struggling wildly, its breath stuttering in strangled gasps. Stone pressed harder.
“St–Sto-”
Stone leaned close into its face. “Do you yield?”
The Lynx thrashed its head, attempting to nod frantically. “Yg-Yes!”
Stone slowly lifted her paws, releasing pressure off the creature’s throat. It gasped for air, then shoved her off its chest, throwing her to the floor. She scrambled to her paws, watching the Lynx heave. After it had caught its breath, the Lynx pressed its paw deep into the stone floor. It did so with strange power, impressing into the rock like it was mud, leaving the crisp outline of its giant pawprint. It beckoned her over. Its breath was hoarse. “Come.”
Stone approached the Lynx. She eyed it warily, nervous that it would decide to ignore the deal and kill her anyway. But it didn’t move as she stood above it, her paws settling on the edge of its pawprint, which seemed to sparkle slightly in the dim, cold light. 
The Lynx glared up at her, its cool demeanor vanished, its eyes blazing with controlled fury. “Touch your nose to the floor,” it growled. “You will receive your reward.”
Carefully, Stone dipped her head down, until her nose brushed against the floor’s icy chill. For a brief moment, all was still.
Suddenly, she was blinded by overwhelming light. The force of the glare threw her head back, and her vision was assaulted by an oppressive blur of color and noise. Images flashed in her mind, landscapes, memories, creatures she has never seen before. Each streaked by, too fast for her to fully process the scenes. Waves of emotion crashed in her, sending her reeling, thrown into a raging sea of grief and joy and fear and wonder. She felt all of time as it had crept by, millions of years of the past and future stretched out infinitely, lived all at once in a single instant. She felt everything. She felt nothing. It was the most agonizing pain she had ever experienced, swept in a flood of sheer euphoria. She knew places and beasts and times she had no name for, all lived through and known by the catkin before her. It was the longest moment of her life, but as she crouched, trembling, blinking her eyes back to the sight of the blue cavern, she realized only seconds had passed.
The Lynx had stood, and had begun moving toward the cave’s exit. It turned to look down at her, and Stone returned its gaze, panting heavily, her fur on end and buzzing with strange energy.
It was silent for a moment. “You now have eight more lives to live along with your own. More than any little cat has had before. Your blessing and your curse.” It lulled thoughtfully, its expression had settled back into its neutral stare. 
Its voice was cold, though laced with an undertone of contempt–and perhaps, Stone thought, respect. “Do not treat this victory lightly, Stone. Every day you live here will be another test, another gamble with your life. Living here is a game with no winners, and you and your fellows can only stall the march of nature for so long.” 
The lynx turned, padding toward the exit. “The gods here will meddle where they like, and though you have bested me, I can not guarantee my kin will be deterred from entertaining themselves with playthings like you.”
The god stopped in the entrance, then glanced back toward her, its face in shadow.
“Good luck, Stone. You will need it.”
It disappeared.
For a moment, Stone stood alone in the blue cavern.
She was not Stone anymore. Something had changed within her, the Lynx’s stars sat heavy in her chest, glittered on her whiskers. Just as an icy piece of the moon had fallen to the earth and become one with it, fragments of the stars had melded with her being. She was Stonestar, and her pelt glowed with the new (old?) lives that settled under her fur. 
And she was alive. More than she had ever been before. 
And it was time to return to her clan.
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pankiepoo · 5 months
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late night vent talk
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natdocx · 1 year
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Still cannot believe warrior nun writers went full 'omg they were roommates and there is only one bed' coffeeshop bar au fanfic with avatrice absolutely zero fucks given. Like. The OCS is a top-secret organization that's literally funded by the catholic church, mother superion has the freaking pope on her speed dial, they have the artillery of a small army, secret codes, military-grade tech and weapons, presumably enough money at their disposal to travel the world should the need arise, etc. And then avatrice is like. scrubbing bar floors and sharing a dingy studio apartment in Switzerland to "keep a low profile" or whatever. We don't even know how they got there. It doesn't even matter. s1 ended on a pretty intense cliffhanger with all of our characters in a sticky situation. Whatever, we're skipping ALL of that. "I bet you want to know what happened. Yeah, idk, I'm still figuring it out myself" – fade to black and cut to 2 months time jump with no explanation whatsoever. Ava is mixing cocktails and Beatrice is her boss. They're in love but they're also idiots. Zero exposition, zero fucks, just fanfic and vibes.
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fycoren · 5 months
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what if I.. shared these fellas
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I have many lore and thoughts for this AU man help
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veilantares · 2 months
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Ice Artifice
Machines, cold blooded as they seem, yearn to stay unseen, in bright furious dreams.
This one's meant to be inspired by ice dragons, but I had no idea how I'd draw the tail, so I guess they don't have one. I wonder if subconciously I thought it'd be too xenomorphy that way. I wanted to capture some elements of the "Bright Night Terror" piece I did last year but also try out a palette I haven't used recently.
In my setting the robots are meant to be able to start out more humanoid, then transform into increasingly strange and curious forms, and the later ones are supposed to be crazy like dinosaurs, spider tanks, squid planes and so on.
So, where are the later forms? Somehow in between 2021 (?) and now I lost some of the confidence in just dumping pieces with unfinished ideas - there was a point I'd have one out every one or two days... Nowadays I give myself an hour or so to draw these and just accept that I have a tendency to do the humanoid ones cause I can pose myself in the mirror as reference. Unfortunately I am not a beautiful robot lady (yet). I'm just a robot beep boop.
By the way, this five fingered hand is just because I had some confidence today in my hand gestures again. The ones with weapons for hands probably just transformed their arms into those temporarily - maybe most of them have "natural" hand states. If so I intend for plenty of them have "natural" hands that are claws or have unusual finger counts, formats and arrangements - I don't think theres any "default" hand.
Accessibility for the different hand, claw and manipulator types is meant to come up from time to time in the setting - so not everyone can pilot or operate everything, but theres accomodations that can be made for most robots to operate most things, because that is what the Emperor wills.
Why would robots have an Emperor? So that I can write a story about what happens when the Emperor falls.
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bambiraptorx · 7 months
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i think Draxum deserves to have a cat and also be an asshole about it lmao
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echoes-in-echoclan · 18 days
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Because I didn't want to wait + y'all got it on the dot here's the next page early early <3
Auburn's mom is named Jackal!
Moon 0 
Moon 41.2 - Moon 41.4
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loudclan-clangen · 11 days
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Loudclan - Lore!
This is gonna be a long one, so buckle in!
Loudclan is one of 4 clans that live on a large swath of land on the coast of South Central Alaska. Here's a map and some more details about them:
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Loudclan camp is located on a flat ledge atop one of the smaller mountains in the range. They were named for the roaring rumble of the mountain's frequent avalanches and landslides. While prey is never frequent in Loudclan territory, their higher elevation and sloped ground means that the snow doesn't pool like it does down in the valley, and thus they never really run out of prey either. In the cold months the clan cats sleep in the many small caves around camp, insulated with wool from the dall sheep and mountain goats that live in the clan territory. In the warmer months, many take to sleeping out in the open, enjoying the sun warmed rocks, but this can lead to epidemics of heatstroke due to the lack of cover on the mountain. Loudclan cats are said to have excellent balance compared to the valley clans.
Ghostclan camp is located in an abandoned mining town build over a grassy wetland. They were named for the strange, empty buildings that they live among. Food in the wetlands can be unpleasant, but not inaccessible. The clan spreads out into several different buildings during the warm months, but during the winter the clan retreats from the deep snows of the valley into the mines, where they are shielded from the cold by several feet of dirt along with their collection of scavenged twoleg fabrics. The dusty interior of the mines seems to be bad for their lungs, however, as Ghostclan cats seem to be more prone to illnesses than the other clans. Ghostclan cats are said to be able to sense oncoming earthquakes with their sensitive paw pads, knowing when to retreat from a tunnel before it caves in. They were the first to discover the Black Water Pool, and feel that they have some kind of special connection to it, deeper than that of the other clans.
Shadedclan camp is located at the lowest point in the valley, in the largest clearing of the dense evergreen forest. They were named for the shade provided by the needled branches of the trees lining their camp. In the summer, Shadedclan's forests and meadows provide the most plentiful prey, but in the winter the snow piles far higher than the head of a cat, and their territory becomes near barren. This means that the clan must vacate their normal dens, moving instead into the branches of spruce and pine that they have learned to weave together into a network of dens and walkways. They tend to have larger paws with extra toes to help them traverse the deep snows when necessary.
Freezingclan camp is located among the heaps of man made boulders that line the shore. (It's called rip rap it's basically a bunch of big rock chunks that they line the shore with to keep it from eroding.) They were named for the harsh winds that batter their territory regardless of the season. While the rocks are hospitable for few creatures besides certain shorebirds, the ocean is always plentiful, and for those who are willing to trek across the ice, even the inhospitable frozen water will give way to a plentiful meal. Due to the small spaces considered to be actually livable amongst the gaps in the rocks, Freezingclan has no dens, and cats instead sleep with their family units deep in their personal nests of feathers, dried seaweed, and driftwood. The wind, while biting, can be helpful, blowing the snow deeper into the valley and not allowing it to settle over the camp. Freezingclan cats claim to have harder paw pads than the other clans, needing them to keep from cutting themselves on the sharp rocks. They are also the only clan to not worship the Black Water Pool, instead believing that their ancestors live in the ocean, reborn as the creatures of the sea.
Due to the extreme nature of all of the clan's territories, they have an unspoken agreement that borders are pretty much just loose suggestions. So long as you don't get too close to anyone's camp, or travel ridiculously far into someone else's territory, you're not breaking any rules. Of course, this doesn't mean that no disputes arise over territory, in fact, if anything, it actually makes territory disputes worse as no one can agree on how far is too far. The clans also often trade items exclusive to their area in order to obtain similarly scarce items from other clans.
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Each clan (minus Freezingclan) is led by a "leadership team" made up of the Leader, the Lead Healer, and the Lead Mediator.
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The Leader is considered to be the closest to Starclan, and receives six lives by being completely submerged and drowned in the Black Water Pool. Afterwards they wash the oil off and receive the mark of a paw print from the Lead Healer as a sign of their approval. The Leader can receive prophecies and visions from starclan on occasion, but if they wish to speak to them directly then they have to sacrifice a life to the Black Water.
The Lead Healer is tasked with being the caretaker of the clan, and receives three lives the same way the Leader does. All healers keep a consistent layer of oil on the lower half of their body, once dried and hardened it acts as a pseudo-apron, protecting the medicine cat from possible infectious material and keeping them from spreading germs to their patients. The Lead Healer rarely receives visions from starclan, and instead focuses on interpreting omens seen in the real world. They may also sacrifice a life to speak directly to starclan.
The Lead Mediator is something of a balance to the other two. They do not receive any lives and are in fact banned from touching the Black Water. It is their job to make sure that the other two leaders do not become so distracted by starclan that they become blind to the struggles of their living clanmates. The Lead Mediator wears a decorative collar to signify their position, and will never receive visions or omens of any kind.
The Leader's closest living relative is called the Heir, and is marked by a streak of oil on their forehead given to them by the Leader. Upon reaching twelve moons old, they take the position of deputy. The other two leaders also have heirs, who are often asked to advise or assist them, but they do not hold official positions or markings.
Whoo, okay, I think that's all that I wanted to say, anyway, hope this clarifies some things and that you enjoy reading it! Follow up questions are welcome, as always!
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months
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MDZS x Warrior Cats AU (part 1): That boy can meow!
Names and a huge inspiration credits to @clintbeefwoods!
(part 2)
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trashiiplant · 5 months
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saw some warrior cat iterators going around and decided to hop on the train
(I haven't drawn cats like this since 2020 or so. sorry if they look a bit... wonky)
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