[There's a trail of
catnip leaves down a few hallways from various rooms. The trails lead through a few other rooms, under some couches and other silly sorts of things. Some of the leaves are dried, while others are still fresh, waiting for a misplaced foot to crush them and release their minty aroma
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God fucking damnit, I hate you, Allen. [the growl sounds sort of funny mixed with the fact he's still purring and is practically shoving his face into the catnip.]
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Shut up fucking rabbit.
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