The torchlight flickered into life, suddenly illuminating the darkness of the hot and musty desert
night. Its light bounced off the sleek shapes of the car in front of the torch bearer. The vehicle was
black, the paint dusty, the tyres massive, a supercharger rising out of the hood. It was a road
warrior’s car.
Behind the car, a shape rose, a shape that carried its arm in a sling, in the other arm, it wielded a
Glock pistol. She was a hyena, her facial fur scuffed up, duster bloody, eyes cold and determined.
“Halt!” she said, her voice firm. “One step closer and I’m expending a bullet in your chest. Show
yoruself!”
The torch lowered, and behind the car, the hyena, Kira, emitted a gasp.
“Y..you” she breathed. “You are dead..”
The light of the oil-fuelled brand revealed a vixen, her face dusty, her hair disorderly and matted
slightly, the oily sheen it had beheld when Kira had last seen it completely gone, the red colour
barely visible under the dirt.
On her head, two antlers rose up in front of her ears, parting her hair and giving her a strange,
otherworldy look.
She had changed, however, Kira noticed this immediately. The etheral attidute that surrounded her
had completely evaporated, lines around her eyes having deepend, and her clothing had changed,
from the robes she had worn when they had last met in Oilsham many months ago. Her clothing was
more practical now, swept back, giving her the ability to move. A weapon holster was at her side,
and Kira eyed it suspiciously, keeping her gun trained at the Oil Sage.
The vixen’s cruel mouth curved upwards into a tired smile and her eyes still beheld the same
mocking hardness that she had exhibited but this time Kira was not afraid of her.
“I survived” the oil sage said simply. “I survived the wrath of the storm, and the cruel heat of the salt
flats, only to be picked up by a travelling saint and ferried to the edge of the wasteland.”
“Give me one reason, witch, why I shouldn’t pull the trigger now” Kira scowled.
The oil sage kept the torch steady, and the two women sized each other up. Kira wasn’t a great shot
but at this distance, she felt confident that she would be able to lethally wound the oil witch before
she could take any action. At the same time, she suddenly wished, with all her heart, that Conor was
here. The road warrior would have been under the car, only his shotgun produting from the inky
blackness and she would have felt at ease bargaining with this strange apparition, knowing that the
best shot in the desert was covering her.
But Conor was not here.
The oil sage smiled again “Belive me, Kira Sheshka, visiting you tonight was not high on the list of my
priorities.” She lowered the torch again. “But sometimes, we have no choice” she muttered.
Kira scowled but nodded, and the vixen continued.
“I am paying off a debt, Kira Sheshka. One that is old. From a past that I am leaving behind.”
The hyena nodded. She knew about debts like that.
“I have information for you, Kira Sheshka” the oil witch said with finality. “Information concerning a
certain person. And it is in your best interest to listen.

A commission of an alternative version of my fursona, an evildoer of the post-apocalyptic wastelands.
Done by the increadibly talented and swaggalicious  VantheCheesenOne <3
And as a nice bonus, a little story for the commission written by the also increadibly talented sweety pie  ConorHyena