Regan had only just returned from places unknown when she began renewing her old scent markers. She had been gone long enough that not even the faintest whisper of her scent lingered. She didn't like that. Not one bit.

The idea that someone, nay anyone, had dared touch or mark something that had once been hers caused a silent growl to reverberate inside her chest. She didn't care that they might not know. What was once hers would always be. No exceptions.

With great relish and barely contained rage she raked her formidable claws along the bark of her favourite trees. Brushed her cheeks along the roughened bark -- sprayed the bases and didn't leave until her scent was prevalent.

She was almost done remarking her territory when she heard the distant rumble of another feline. Deeper and unfamiliar. Regan knew the sound of all the felines in Sacrosanct, or once she did, now here was a stranger. In her territory. He better not be in her tree. She'd kill him. It. Them. Anyone. HER TREE!

The tigress moves silently in the direction she heard the noise. Taking care to be quiet as she stalks closer, closer, and closer still. Black lips peeling back from ivory teeth as she inhales and allows the unfamiliar scent to glide across her tongue. She'd never forget it now. There would be no running from her.

The tigress moves forward with death and maiming on her mind. No one touches what is hers. HERS. She glides to the edge of the forest and peers through the foliage. Amethyst eyes glowing dimly in the early light. She spots the massive golden cat flopped over on his side, rubbing, scenting and sunning himself on some large rocks. The fact he wanted to sun himself instead of marking the nearby tree probably saved his life. She wouldn't, couldn't have let him live if he'd marked HER tree. Such things simply weren't done. Not in Regan's mind anyway.

Now what did she do? He'd somehow managed to take the air out of her sails and he didn't even know she was there. Not yet anyway. Well, if he was going to make himself at home in her forest, she might just have to show him why that would be a bad idea. Yes. The girl grins inside her mind and begins the slow and steady process of stalking around his side -- careful to stay downwind so as to remain hidden. If the girl could have laughed, she might of. Perhaps it was a blessing that sound rarely managed to escape her lips. Just this once anyway.

Now firmly in position, the obsidian tigress crouches low, executes the perfect kitty butt wiggle and launches herself from her hiding spot to tackle the golden male and send them tumbling off the rock ledge. Regan extricates herself before they can land in a tumble of limbs and somehow manages to land on her feet facing him. A feat worthy of any champione cat worth his or her salt. The light and mischief in her glowing eyes seems to shout "TADA!". Were she human she might have executed a gymnasts landing and bowed -- pat herself on the back and all that.

The tigress blinks and the light fades. She trails her gaze over his muscled frame and then settles for an inquisitive head tilt. He didn't smell like Pack, but there was a small trace of her friends lingering over his skin. Interesting. Regan yawns, slowing a flash of teeth to remind him how big, powerful and wonderful she was just in case it had slipped his mind. Now, she settled in to wait, balancing herself lightly, ready to spring into action.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty.



"Thinks like this."