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"Mhm, we'll need to get all of our folks out of here!" growled Trek.
"If we stay here any longer we'll be crow-food," almost staring stone solid at their Deputy, Harold.
This is the tribe of the Caged. We were once kittypets, but now, we seek more power. Our owners threw us out like trash. But we will not accept this. As the leader, Trek Where Metal Lies, or Trek. I have a few plans on taking on Twolegplace ourselves...
"Good luck," Harold retorted outloud.
"What? Aren't you coming." Trek questioned his actions.
"Of course not!"
"Nobody will follow in your pawsteps...."
link to your oc:
Become a Curator by joining the Tribe. Post the form above with it filled out. Managers are leaders, deputies, and senior warriors, some medicine cats.
Probably the most important part of this tribe. It's what makes us unique. It's Trek, his single words. Can make history.... Nobody followed Trek, they were all trapped in confusion.
"Harold can lead us!" a random gray tabby shouted from the staring crowd of cats.
At the moment it started to flow with constant screams.
"Nobody will FOLLOW me... but... only the worthy will JOIN me" - Trek Where Metal Lies