ORIGIN

Kera was wary to step foot-- or rather, paw --in Polaris again after witnessing the storm, especially for what she wanted to do today. She'd stepped away from Aka in tunnel N for a little while (she needed the space, perhaps) and slinked into a new, much colder tunnel.

She would be fine here, decidedly. Her thick fur could keep the worst of the cold at bay for a good while, even if she could see her own breath billowing out from her mouth in front of her.

It mattered very little to her. She had things to do.

Kera's weakness, so far-- something she did not want to even admit --was that she was abhorrent at casting her own magic. It was almost painful to the touch and it was hard for her to do it properly, or without expending a lot of effort into it.

In the back of her mind, she doubted it would work, but she thought, perhaps, practice would make perfect. That's what everyone else said, at least. Kera did not know where they got the phrase from, but she had no use to argue against it-- not until she proved it wrong herself.

Kera's skill-- or lack thereof --relied mostly on growing fungus. She knew what she was looking for, what she had to practice and what she had to aim for in order to improve, and as she paced down the tunnel, she decided there was no point in wasting time.

So she shut her eyes, and she began to focus.

When Kera opened her eyes again, it felt like she were somewhere else. She couldn't exactly see it, not for sure, but she was aware of little things all around her and all around the tunnel, swarming and hovering peacefully in the air.

She wasn't aware what these things were, not really. Just that they were necessary to be aware about, if she wanted to start growing mushrooms.

She knew this would be a good place for growing. Now, she just had to find good soil, where mushrooms would be easier to grow. It would help, she thought, though it might still be difficult to get the hang of.

Still, practice made perfect.

Kera took in a deep thread, eyes only half-shut now as she began to concentrate again, feeling carefully through the tunnel, ears lifted high.

She was doing well, decidedly. She could not put this whole 'practice made perfect' logic down, suddenly, but she was quickly beginning to get tired. Perhaps, once she grew something, she would hunt, eat, and then take a nap before returning to where ever she had left Aka.

She could bring some food, too. He'd like that.

Regardless of what was in the future for her, for now she was very, very aware of everything in the tunnels-- she knew there were rats somewhere near, some mice elsewhere. She could sense their living little bodies and her own living body. She could sense dead, unfertile soil in front of her. She could sense the stagnant, cold air of the cave, the humidity, and she could sense a good spot for growing mushrooms.

She paced over towards the fertile soil, sniffing it for a moment. Her plan of trapping rats was simple: it was dark, and light would attract dumb animals towards it to investigate. The main challenge was patience, which Kera found that she didn't have a whole lot of.

She exhaled slowly, bracing herself, and began to focus as she touched the soil with her nose.

This was the hardest part. Growing. It did not help that she didn't have a lot of energy left, either-- but she still managed to do it. she felt the gentle tingling to caps pressing against her nose as a cluster of beautiful, faintly-glowing (but foul-smelling) caps burst out through the soil.

She recoiled back, watching as the mushrooms spiralled out of the dark dirt and illuminated their corner with eerie green-blue light. There may have been a dozen of them, clustered together comfortably, glowing gently.

Kera was proud of herself. She had done a fine job, thank-you-very-much, but she was tired now. She wanted to hunt, eat, and head back to Aka with her leftovers before taking a good and very long nap.

Scrambling up onto the high ledge just above the cluster, laying on her belly as she began to wait. She had to get herself comfortable-- the rats had been some distance away, and Kera knew fine well that rats were stupid. It might take them a while to notice.

Sighing slowly, Kera stared down at the cluster of beautiful mushrooms-- beautiful mushrooms she had made, and smiled. She was okay with this. She was okay with waiting. For now.

Exactly three minutes had passed since Kera began waiting for food to walk into her trap. It had been a very long three minutes, and Kera had finally began to feel her patience run short.

Granted, it had been three minutes longer than last time.

She kept her ears high, listening, waiting, with dwindling patience for rats. She could hear them shuffling and scurrying around somewhere elsewhere-- far away in the walls, or in their dumb burrows, doing rat-things.

Kera hated rats. Why couldn't they just pay attention to her mushrooms like they were supposed to? Dumb rats. Kera hated rats.

Kera stared down intently, frowning, licking her paws absently as she waited quietly for the dumb, hate-worthy rats to stumble close, close enough that Kera would finally get something to eat. She was hungry.

This was terrible. Awful. Worst experience.

Kera hated rats. She didn't even have Aka's company with her to talk to and listen to, to converse with while they waited for dumb rats to stumble by. Terrible. Awful. Worst experience. Why did she leave the owl alone to go and do this on her own?

Terrible. Awful. Worst--

She planted one paw-- the one that was still working, incidentally --over her muzzle with a faint, impatient growl. She would rather risk falling into the river in Polaris than to sit here doing nothing, waiting for rats.

Perhaps she woud, or perhaps the mushrooms just weren't bright enough, or there weren't enough of them. She craned her head down once more to the small cluster, focusing, breathing evenly.

She was, in fact, half-falling off her ledge, now. Not that she particularly cared-- she had to get to those mushrooms somehow, or she would never be able to get something in her mouth. It was better this way.

Kera was hungry.

It was good to feel her practice coming through into success so quickly, even if it was exhausting her. The mushrooms growing out from under her, adding to the cluster, were bigger and brighter, yellow in glow instead of blue-green. It looked less eerie, less unattractive, and smelled considerably better.

Not that Kera could tell. It still stank of carrion and icky things, but rats were scavengers. She bet that would be attractive to them, because it would mean that it was possible food for them.

Rats were so dumb.

She hated them.

Pushing herself back up unevenly to the ledge, with her claws scrambling on the rock as she tried to keep herself balanced up there, Kera set her head on her paws and went back to staring down at the cluster of glowing fungi.

They were good. They were pretty. Kera was proud of herself-- she was, no doubt, the absolute best at doing this, now. She just needed something to show for it, and that something was a fat rat that she was going to eat.

She licked her muzzle, and waited.

Three minutes. Three very long, very stressful minutes.

Kera kept whining. Perhaps it was driving the rats away, or perhaps they could scent wolf around them, but regardless, Kera did not have the time nor the patience for this, not when she could go grab a fish out the crystal river in less than a minute.

She could have caught ten of them, by now. Or twenty. Kera could have enough fish to feed her to the end of the life, if she had spent it on fishing instead of laying here, waiting, doing absolutely nothing while the rats laughed at her from a distance.

Kera assumed they laughed, at least. She did not actually know.

She huffed loudly, and then sealed silent, realising her mistake in constant loud breathing and making loud noises. She could hear the rats nearby, even, scuffling and moving around the tunnels.

She could run after them, but her leg wouldn't help her keep up. She had to rely on trapping, or fishing. She shut her eyes briefly.

Kera decided, to herself, that she would wait a little longer. If nothing came by, she would leave and go fishing. She had done enough magic practice for today, after all, and she had gotten a lot better at it. That much she knew.

They hated her. They were laughing at her. They were mocking her. That much Kera knew, also. She also knew that she hated, above all the agressive geese out there, every single rat in this damn cave.

Kera had no time to be the plaything to rats. It had, of course, been exactly ten minutes since she even started waiting. Not that the wolf particularly cared for this, of course, but as she scrambled up and clambered back off the ledge, she had already made up her mind.

The rats could enjoy her mushrooms. Her pretty, beautiful mushrooms that she had made herself and were, in fact, all hers and only hers and should never be placed in the foul, grubby hands of rats. Kera did not care.

... Kera cared immensely, but not the point.

She would have a better time fishing. She would bring fish to Aka and take a well-deserved nap. Incidentally, she would not tell the owl of the events that just transpired. Aka did not have to know. He only had to know that she was the best at everything.

The best at everything except for catching rats, that is.