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CHoose


You pounce on the prey and sink your teeth into its neck, confused at the lack of a struggle. You look up to see your mother purring. She had obviously already caught the prey. Instead of looking embarrassed, you decide to hold it up and purr lightly as well, as if that had been your intention all along. You grow up with a preference for hunting over fighting, even as you become a warrior.

You are Buckleap.
You've reached an end!
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