Ambertail moves like mist between branches, silent and unseen. No one remembers when he arrived, and fewer still know his face.
Blades coated with venom rest lightly in his paws, and a single strike can decide the fate of a caravan, a patrol… or a warlord.
In DeepWood, his name drifts on the wind before anyone sees him.
When Ambertail strikes, only silence and the flicker of rust-colored leaves remain.
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