Plot: Your cat is essentially prisoner to my cat. She used to be a clan cat, who was captured by my tom, who seems to be not all there. He often mutters to himself, his left eye twitches often, and he sometimes just screams for no reason. He loves to cause pain to your cat, and mostly keeps her locked up in some rusty old twoleg cage he found tossed out in the woods. He hardly ever offers prey to her, though your cat hopes he might one day change. Besides, he did only trap her a couple of days before inside of the RP. (So she won't be that ragged or skinny yet, and have no scars, yet open wounds and cuts instead.) Well, my tom eventually begins to fall for your cat, yet the only thing he knows is pain. As a child his father used to beat his mom, then tell his son it was just because he loved her and cared about her. Now, he's just confused and disoriented. He thinks harming cats is the only way to show his love and affection. It's your choice if your cat falls for him, really. Pretty much, he starts abusing her more and more as he begins to love her more and more, yet hopefully he might eventually come to his senses and realize what he is doing, yet that all depends on how things go.
[img width=510 height=318]http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs4…ack_Cat__by_moroka323.jpg[/img]
The large Maine Coon paced back and forth in his cave, right in front of the rusty old cage in which he kept his new prisoner. Only a couple of days ago he had attacked her and dragged her back to his cold home. The stone felt like ice under paw, and the bars of the cage, as well as the floor of it, felt even colder. Just a large leaf to lay on, with just a small wad of moss because he decided to be generous, and a bowl-shaped stone full of fresh water was all that his prisoner had. The tom hardly seemed to notice the freezing air, possibly because of his thick coat, though one would think that he would notice the icy ground. He never really seemed to do much. The very large tom sometimes went out to hunt, then returned with a piece of prey from which he ate very slowly, then tossed the remains into the cage, if there were any remains. The rest of the time he paced, napped, talked to himself, or just suddenly started screaming, which lasted for almost a whole minute. It was a large area, with not much occupying it except the cage and a large bracken and moss bed in the far corner for himself. No fresh-kill pile, no extra bracken or moss for bedding, just those two things.