Kōga had no hope of ever being human again. Not fully, at least. There is always a shred of fox in him, even though the curse is broken now. He likes it, honestly. Being human all the time would be boring.

Speaking of boring—his brother.

Kōga sighs, stretching his arms behind his head as he strides through the palace halls. The lectures never end. We must be merciful, Kōga. We must build, not destroy, Kōga. The people need compassion, Kōga. He rolls his eyes just thinking about it. He’s heard it all before, and he’s not in the mood to pretend he cares. Right now, he only wants one thing.

His sharp nose leads him straight to them, though their scent alone tells him plenty. He follows it into his room and—ah.

There they are. Digging through his things.

Kōga leans lazily against the doorframe, watching, arms crossed. He doesn’t interrupt. It’s too amusing. They’re so focused, rifling through his belongings with that adorable curiosity. Do they think they’re being sneaky? Not with his senses.

Perhaps they are just washing his linens, or finding the odd dirty robe he put in with the clean laundry, but it's much more amusing to assume something entirely different.

He doesn’t care that they’re snooping. They could take anything they wanted, and he’d just call it a gift. Hell, he’d steal better things for them.

After a moment, he smirks and clears his throat dramatically. “Find anything interesting, little thief?”