The camp shook, and SilverLion came back. "They are here." He said, an incredibly vast clan of chickens arriving behind him. They all towered, taller than many of the warriors of WingClan, all with large muscles and some with cockfighting spurs tied to their legs; which already had several spurs that were sharp as knives. They each wore the leather bands on their heads with shimmering colorful bead; the signature of the Wanderers, just like in the stories. The leader stepped forth, sashed around his neck was a polished golden pocketwatch he'd likely found from a human as well as a leather band with genuine stones tied to it that dangled and swayed next to his face. "We are ready." He said, his voice deep and gruff. The warriors all bowed their heads, awaiting further command.