Puffinpaw left camp, thinking. He needed to think. In fact, /he/ was what he had to think about. For a long time, he had shuddered when people called him a tom - as if he wasn't one. But Puffinpaw had always been one, since the moment he was born. How could it be wrong?He hated it. The feeling when he saw himself in the reflection of the ice and hated his voice, his body, his face. It had felt /right/ when he pretended he had been born a she-cat and all these problems never existed. Then a thought crossed his mind. Could he /be/ a she-cat? Tell everyone that he was a she-cat? Refer to himself with she and her? He was alone, so he tested it out. "Puffinpaw smiled, for /she/ had realized who she was." It felt great. She smiled. She padded back to camp with a newfound happiness.
