How to Tame a Cat (ManxMan)

Chapter Three: Uninvited Guest

Dylan, like the annoyance he is, notices that my attention is no longer on him and whistles like a human would to their pet dog. I flatten my ears against my head and bare my teeth at him, but I refrain from hissing. He laughs as I pointedly turn my back to him and trot over to the first tree. Though, as I stand up on my hind legs to reach as high as I can on the tree, the wolf realizes what I am doing, and his laughter ceases in quiet understanding.

I am unable to reach up as high as Ryland's likely massive paws could, but I still stretch as far as I can before repeatedly raking my sharp claws down the areas that smell of lion. Mine are unable to do as much damage as Ryland's, but they get the point across. However, just to make it even clearer, I proceed to do that to all the other trees around my house that he damaged. I would like to do that to all the trees in my forest that he messed up, but who knows what kind of stupid ass hunters I might come across that decided to hunt in the middle of the night. 

It wouldn't be the first time.

As one final middle finger to the lion, I rub my muzzle against a few nearby bushes that he left untouched, using my scent glands to leave an olfactory mark on the leaves I brush against. A human would never be able to pick it up, but a Were would in either form. If he has a problem with it, then he can bring it to me, but until he challenges me, this is still my land. And, as an afterthought, I take a moment to claw up the ground around certain parts of my yard, which is not as traditional, but still...

Once I am sure that I have done everything I can to mark my property, I release a soft huff, still annoyed but less so than before. While my ears are up and listening for sounds, my tail is down, flickering slightly. To a wolf, that is a sign of submission. To a cat, though, it is a sign of annoyance. Dylan watches as I approach before holding up his hands above his head. I growl at him for it because I know exactly what that means, and it is not surrender.

I stop a couple inches away from him, my head only reaching slightly above his hip before sitting down on my haunches. The idiot grins at me, clearly pleased that I am going along with his troublesome game. It isn't like I can go anywhere else but inside the cabin, though, and he is blocking the only entrance. Dylan crouches down to grab my paws before pulling me up with him, forcing me to stand unsteadily on my back paws. Until I gain my balance, he allows me to put my large paws on his shoulders. If he was human, he would have fallen by now.

As soon as I am able to stand on my own back feet, he grabs my paws again and slowly pulls them above our heads. After a moment of stretching, I cannot reach any farther, and he stops, his large hands resting against my almost-as-large paws. In leopard form, I am about three or four inches shorter than Dylan, who is six foot-nothing, on my hind legs. Despite reaching as far as I can, he has to bend his elbows to keep his hands and my paws meeting.

After a moment, he releases them, letting them fall back to his shoulders. However, instead of letting me go like I expected, he grabs hold of my hips and grins. I give him a pained look. You wouldn't, I dared him with my eyes. Despite common belief, there is no such thing as mental communication between Weres, not even within packs.

Dylan only grins. I doubt he got the exact wording, but the message was clear. I do not like what he is going to do, but he is planning to do it anyway. Before I can wiggle my way out of his half-hug, he starts swaying his hips to imaginary music, using his hands to do the same to my body. I growl, the warning rumbling deep in my chest, but he ignores me as he turns us in a large circle.

I narrow my eyes at him before growling again, my final warning. He continues to ignore me, instead preparing to spin me around in a way that will most likely make me vomit up my cheeseburger. With a snarl, I push down with my heavy paws and immediately shove him away. He stumbles backwards, ill-prepared for the amount of strength I used.