[center][h1][color=ed1c24]Blackpelt: Camp, Medicine Den[/color][/h1]
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Blackpelt frowns, and quietly pads his way over to the newcomers. "No one touches my herbs except me. If you want your wounds treated, I'll help you. If not, stay out of my den. Eat the wrong herb, and it may very well kill you. Understand?" His eyes seem to bore into Felix and Otis, but he doesn't include Heather. Supposedly. He seems wary of them, untrusting. "Where were these racoons? I may need to treat some of your wounds if one of them was infected with anything." His eyes are half slitted, and he seems to be sizing them up, despite his small size. [i]Something's off here. They don't smell like racoons. Why would they want to come into our camp otherwise though? We have them far outnumbered.[/i]