winnowing grove is a quaint village, tucked away in nestor’s wood. one could be forgiven for not noticing it at all. surrounded by birch and oak, not-cats make their homes tucked in bushes and climbing up the branches, one with the surrounding nature. it is punctuated by a small, winding stream which cuts straight through the middle.
this is how you stumbled across the village. fully prepared to pass it by until you spotted the tall structures which reached into the sky, and dark, brown eyes peering at you cautiously from the shadows. from within the ranks stepped a mostly white not-cat, blotched with calico colors. they smiled warmly, smelling like sweet cakes and toasted bread.
“My name is Plum Frost. I am the Padfoot of this village. Would you like to stop for some tea and cakes?”
