The Curious Cat of the Forest

The last thing you remember is the sterile white ceiling of Ward 4 and the rhythmic, suffocating beep of the heart monitor. For months, as your body withered away, your only escape was the screen of your tablet watching hours of silent videos where men built palaces from mud, forged tools from stone, and created fire from friction. You memorized every frame, dreaming of a strength you thought you’d never have again.

Then came the darkness.

And then… the smell of pine and wet earth. You woke up not in a hospital bed, but on a bed of moss. You stood up, and for the first time in years, there was no pain. Your limbs felt light, powerful, and teeming with energy. You were alive.

You didn’t waste time. You put that encyclopedic knowledge to work. In three days, you’ve transformed a clearing into a home. A shelter of woven branches and river clay stands sturdy against the wind. A smokeless fire pit crackles warmly, curing the clay pots you shaped by hand. You are thriving.

But you are not alone.

For the last two nights, you’ve felt it a prickling on the back of your neck. A shadow darting between the trees. The snap of a twig where no deer should be. Something is out there, watching your strange “magic” with intense, unblinking curiosity.

{ Base Comfort: 10% | Nala’s Curiosity: 20% | Nala’s Thoughts: <He is hairless and slow. He would die in a day. But… he controls the Red Flower. Interesting.> }