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[+] Kursha Vidari

Shivering in Busthind's autumn chill, Kursha pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he trudged through the snow. Being coonridden for the past month had worn down his tolerance to the cold; that and his stamina. The strenuous climb he used to make across the mountainside every evening with ease, now tested the limits of his fortitude with his muscles as atrophied as they were.

Still, he had already seen improvement over the last week. True, his pusher rate was up and he was panting, but the stitch in his side had left him (as well as all literal stitches) and his head no longer felt like spinning. Admittedly the medical advice he had received advised against strenuous activity, but... Kursha did not do well sitting idle. He needed to keep his body and his mind busy.

This evening's excursion provided more than a simple distraction however. He had a destination and a purpose: the destination just up ahead and his purpose in his pocket. He pressed on with renewed vigour.

As he made his way around the rocky outcrop, the cave entrance came into view. It looked exactly as he remembered it—not a surprise really, considering he had visited only two nights before. The snow piled around the entrance lent a deserted air. Even so, his nerves were on fire as he crossed into hostile territory. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny for a sign of movement. All was still. That might have been good or bad, depending.

He wove a circuitous path to the mouth of the cave, careful of his step. He had not found any traps before, but that was before he made the mutantblood an enemy. She might have guessed he would have come looking for her, and prepared as such. His caution proved unnecessary however. He made it inside without incident. Standing where the moonlight still reached, Kursha waited for his eyes to adjust. He had not seen much of the hive's interior before, and wanted a quick look around.

The inside of the cave was sparse. It was difficult to say whether it had always been that way, or whether she had cleared out her belongings already. Against one wall, he spotted an enormous pile of blankets, and all around the walls were crates filled with various possessions, leaning towards practical more than anything else. An inert recuperacoon stood on the opposite side of the hollow. Judging by the layer of dirt over the floor it had been a while since Byakko had come to visit. That or she took offence to cleaning.

Kursha stopped just shy of the centre of the room. It felt too invasive to go any further. Depositing his burden, a damp paper bag, on the floor, he reached into his jacket pocket. From it, he pulled out a neatly folded letter. He placed it inside the bag. Supposing Byakko did come back, his intrusion would be hard to miss.

He took a step back and gave the deserted hive one last look. His work was done. Letting out a sigh, Kursha turned on his heel and left.



Inside the bag was a medical kit, and a fake squeakbeast stuffed with catnip.