Medicine Cat den RP - OPEN

The tom was just waking up when the cold breeze blew through his fur and chilled his bones. Not even out of my den yet and the cold is already getting to me. He let out an irritated huff of disapproval as he stretched his legs. There was no telling what the day would bring today, but he certainly wasn't going to be in a good mood. He hated the cold, and thrived in the heat of summer. Leafbare was the time in which he was aggravated the easiest and most stayed out of his way during these couple moons. He would, too, for he could barely stand himself.

He walked out of his den and wandered who it was today that he would make miserable in some way. If he was going to be this cold, someone would feel his pain. As he was looking around the camp, his eyes fell upon the medicine cat den. He had heard rumblings that she was disapproving of his way of life and the way he ruled this clan. With a sense of pride and dedication, he strutted into her den.

Knock knock dear. His smooth, deep voice was often found calming. Or terrifying. Depends on how he was using it. He found her sorting through her herbs like the little weak thing she was. He smiled his cocky, lovely smile, and draped his tail around her shoulder. I smell something in the air. He sniffed the air in an almost mocking way. Ah, yes. The distinct smell of disapproval. I sense you are not happy me with love. He turned to face her. Being the massive tom he was, he towered over the poor she-cat. He bent down to be eye level with her. Is there something the little medicine cat wants to tell me? The last words did have the same mocking tone the rest did. He enthused them with the very dark tendrils that encompassed his heart and let them float through the air. His eyes were alight with a dark, cold fire that only the mentally insane could possess. And he loved it. The light brown tabby tom waited for her response, almost hoping that he would scare into submission without much work.

Had he been a lesser tom he would have laughed in her face. There was no way he would even remotely agree to what she was saying to him. He was the leader of this clan, not her. She had no right to tell him what to do. With a simple movement he returned to his normal height, towering over the she-cat. His light brown tabby coat glistened in the light pouring in from the opening of the den. He looked down at the she-cat, wondering just what it was that he could do. It was obvious that her submission would have to be pounded in a little harder than he had hoped. And he wouldn't leave until she was trembling and afraid of the tom. He needed her to be. Even a thought of revolt wasn't allowed in his clan. Not that he would know of, anyway. He dared someone to mention their thoughts aloud.

My dear, I don't come in here and tell you how to stock your herbs, do I? As he was saying the words, he knocked over a stack of leaves with his paw. I suggest that you don't dare tell me how to my clan. He put emphasis on the word dare, letting it hung in the air longer than all the rest. He knocked over another pile of herbs, and then swept his body to the side so he was just centimeters away from her. He draped his tail across her shoulders and put his cheek against hers. I worked hard to gain control of this lovely clan, love. I trained for many, many moons in the hot sun. I have the scars to prove it. So don't you dare tell me that you are more qualified to run my clan than I am.