That theiving little...

[Da Kittie]

'Quick and quiet... just like always...' Chase mentally said. He slunk through the street, approaching the medic hut where the herb he sought resided.

He tested the door, finding it unlocked, as it normally was for late-night patients. On silent feet, he swiftly scurried into the pantry at the side. He quickly let his eyes skim over the plants, looking for a certain one.

Sighting it, he reached out with his right hand, taking just a little. He rushed to the exit just as quietly as he had came. Unfortunately, there was a new obstacle in his way.

"I should turn you in." The cybunny chided, arms crossed, an angry expression on her face. Her limp ears hung loosely. Chocolate brown hair hung in a bun behind her head. Her orange-brown eyes were narrowed in a glare directed towards the kyrii.

Chase grinned, taking a half-step back. "Go ahead, Mathilda."

The cybunny's glare deepened, though it was difficult to see in the dim (if there was any at all) light. "Quit stealing from my storage."

Chase chuckled. "Sorry Matty. Needed this. A guard kind of... nicked me."

Her eyes travelled to his arm, now noticing the blood-soaked fur. It was poorly wrapped in what looked to be a belt. "That's hardly a nick!" Her eyes widened.

"Ah, it's nothing that won't heal..." Chase trailed off, slowly advancing towards her. "Now, if you don't mind..." He shoved past her, leaping out into the night streets. "I've gotta run." He took off down the street, herb clutched tightly in his hand.

((-does a dance-))

[Paige]

Isolde sat by the river, gazing into its water.She had a CD player, listening to some music. A golden heart locked hung around her neck. She was singing along, Hardly noticing her surroundings. She got up, and started walking down the river to Sakhmet. She sighed, bored.

[Da Kittie]

Chase looked over his shoulder, checking to see if any guards were out. Not seeing anyone following him, he grinned. He looked forward again, noticing there was someone in front of him. Unfortunately, he'd noticed too late. He rammed into Isolde, falling backward.

He stopped his fall with his right hand. Pressure ran up his arm to his wound, causing him to hiss in pain.

[Paige]

"Oof!" Isolde fell foward, face first into the sand. She got up and dusted herself off. "I'm sorry!" She said, offering him a hand to help him up. She noticed the wound, and gasped. "Are you alright?" She said, looking at the poorly - taken - care of wound. "Do you need any help? Like getting to a doctor or something?" She asked.

[Da Kittie]

"Eh?" Chase stared at the offered hand, shaking his head. He stood himself, shaking off what sand he could. "I'm fine." He chuckled at the mention of a doctor. "The closest doctor hates my guts. And I'm pretty sure just about any other doctor around here wouldn't refrain from turning me in..."

He looked to her, looking her up and down. "You from around here? I don't think I've seen you before."

[Paige]

Isolde shook her head. "No, I'm not from around here." Then she cocked her head. "Turning you in? What did you do?" She asked, confused. He seemed nice enough. Then again, looks could be decieving. She wasn't scared, but she got ready to take off just in case.

[Da Kittie]

"You really aren't from around here, then." He responded, a half-smirk on his lips. "I'm a wanted criminal. Pretty well known one around here, not that I'm bragging or anything."
He closed his eyes, his smirk growing. "Well, maybe just a little. Anyway, this is all beside the point, I need to be off. Sorry for running into you like that."

[Paige]

Isolde nodded. "Well, I won't turn you in... But one question. I've always wanted to know this: What makes you do the thing you do? You know, Criminal acts? I understand if you don't want to answer this question." She said, a questioning look on her face.

[Da Kittie]

Chase looked up, pondering the question. "Nya, it's in my blood." He shrugged. "I dunno what it is. Mostly habit by now, I s'pose. I won't go into detail, though... mostly because I'd rather not." He shot a sideways glare to nothing in particular. "Anyway, I should go clean my arm up." He finished, walking off along the river.