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A feline was already lying in one of the beds at the bunk house for the trainees, doing some maintenance work over his daggers. He had one in his hand, with the blades pointed away from his body. It had been recently sharpened, the blade restored from all the nicks and such that had came from the day, and a fresh coat of oil was applied. He wasn't as built as the others, and certainly wasn't as skilled in combat. But his talents did lie elsewhere. He was more lithe, and light on his toes compared to the rest. Easily able to dance away from the strike of a blade and come in close for a crippling blow. Or simply sneaking around to scout out the area. He definitely was not made to be a soldier, but a scout or runner instead. But like all military regiments, they tend to mix the trainees together before sending them out.
He would look up occasionally, his attention directing it's self outside towards the sky and to other soldier's who were lingering around the camp. Even the dragon with the Scythe.