If there is one thing I dislike more than spending time with Tychon - because forced company is hardly ever good company - it is being ignored. Being talked back to. I was certain that if I ever entertained the idea of pups it would be a situation. All the griping and groaning and back talking! I try to remember if I had ever done it with my mother and father but I can't quite remember most of my childhood. Only the familiar walls of connected dens and my cousins and uncles, along with the loud chirping of my sister who would never be outshone. Tychon thought I was great at everything, even if I didn't know that, but I never measured myself in such a manner. I merely set my mind to a conquest and completed it. I had become a rather adept hunter through hard training during my few years here and inthe wilds; I was a survivor. Nothing could faze me.
Except being told no.
With a low growl of frustration I stepped into the den, pausing for a moment so my eyes could adjust to the shadows only a moment before I pad towards Tychon. Dreaming huh? Not for long. I lift one large paw high and then bring it down directly on his face - if he was only half asleep he might have heard me walk towards him, he might even now roll away from my assault, but if he wasn't then I planned to make sure he WAS wide awake in only a few moments.