C A E L U M
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{gender. male} {rank. Medicus} {pack. Sanctum} {word count. 275} {tags. Rian}
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Caelum padded into the camp, his nose stinging from the sharp scent of mint. He glanced over to the group surrounding Rian and assumed that they were discussing the patrols for the day. It didn't have much to do with him, but he stopped and listened in anyways, wondering if there was anything that would require his attention. Caelum pricked his ears as he heard the word 'tournament' passing between the group. He sighed, trotting over to his den and dropping the mint at the entrance. He'd lay them out carefully when the sun was stronger. Besides, finding fresh plants to treat the wounds that would be sustained during the tournament was now more important than freshening his stocks. He shook his head, chastising himself for forgetting something so important to the rest of the pack. It was the one time that everyone was eager to get hurt, it seemed to him. At least none of the wounds would be fatal--most of the time, anyways.
"It sounds like I'll be busy today," Caelum said, walking up to the group and dipping his head to Rian, "Best of luck to everyone who participates,"