Bakura's hair whipped in front of his face, making the urge to strangle something even stronger. "Would you hurry up?" He grumbled over the wind. "If we don't find somewhere to stay soon, it's going to…" He trailed off, looking around for his partner. He had fallen behind in front of an alley, dropped onto his hands and knees.
"What are you—"
"Stop. You'll scare it with your hair." Marik said, pushing him away. "C'mere little guy, it's alright…"
Bakura watched as a small black cat crawled out from behind a set of crates, its yellow eyes wide. "Marik," he said impatiently. "We don't have time for this."
The Egyptian ignored him, holding out a hand for the cat to sniff. It was emaciated and rather ragged, mewling pathetically as it bumped against his hand. "That's a good kitty," he murmured, scratching it behind the ears.
"Very cute," Bakura said snidely. "Now we better go. If there isn't a hotel in this place, we're fucked."
"Come on," Marik chirped. The cat jumped into his arms, nuzzling up against his chin as he carried it along.
"Oh no. You're not bringing that thing along with us."
"Let's call you…Bagheera."
"You're not naming it."
"You look like you could be a little panther, couldn't you." He set the cat on his shoulder. He grinned at Bakura, who glowered back. "What, you never read the Jungle Book?"
"That's not the point." Bakura replied. "You're not keeping him."
The cat glared at him, letting out a low hiss. Marik patted it gently. "He's as lost as we are," he said quietly, his hand on its side. "It's the least we can do."
"Animals die all the time."
"Not this one," Marik replied. "Not tonight." The cat purred softly as Marik charged on ahead, searching the streets. "Motel over there, looks to be in our price range," he said, pointing down the street. "You're going to eat like a prince tonight, yes you are."
Bakura groaned but followed him, once again questioning Marik's sanity.
