Rating: probably high
Everything was silent now, and Kuja was grateful to be left alone long enough to gather his thoughts. Sitting on the bed, he looked out the window at the town outside, watching the listless movements of the Cleyrans. There was a mirror hanging on the wall, and Kuja got up to investigate it. He still looked the same, but his skin was waxy and paler then before. He decided the first thing he needed once he got out of here was a bath, and a set of new clothes. These were in tatters.
Kuja felt rage welling up in him. Aside from the obvious question of why he'd been revived this way, why had he been left in the Iifa tree? Why had Zidane just left him there to rot, instead of burying him someplace? Obviously his "brother" hadn't cared that much after all. Trying to calm himself, he decided to go for a walk and a get an idea of the layout of this place.
He passed by the innkeeper silently and walked out into the town. Shops, houses and multiple staircases. None of these were of interest. At the junction of the stairs, Kuja chose to go down, thinking that it would be the more likely escape route. The wind had picked up and Kuja knew he probably couldn't exit through the sandstorm, but there might be a tunnel or something.
He noted the Cleyrans staring at him, a few of them following him. They didn't speak, so he did his best to ignore them. I'm just taking a walk, don't you see? Nothing to worry about.
He went down to a plain outcropping at the center of the tree, below the steps, looking up at the layout of the town, noting the inn and temple. The area was not particularly interesting, but he made note of how the tree was junctioned. He made his way back up to the center of town, avoiding the inn and making his way down the streets, catalouging every backstreet and the ends of the branches. He kept his focus on mapping the city, trying not to think about the Cleyrans that watched him. Smiling to himself, he contemplated where his spell would do the most damage.