While leaving the courtyard, Urami absorbs the information around
her. Most of the leaves have fallen from the trees, the remaining ones
being dull shades of red and brown. She kneels down to pick up a leaf and
sniffs it. Ah, the sweet smell of decay. They had been here for quite a
while. That ment winter was approaching fast. She stands up and brushes off
her knee. An exceptionally cold breeze flutters her tresses, making them
stand up like normal. She would wait to pursue her prey.
Very soon, she finds herself in the comforts of her own home. She sits down in her plain wooden chair and removes one hard-bottomed shoe, then the other. She stands, and after mentally scanning the house many times, walks into a very small room. There, a tanto is resting on a pillow. She touches the blade tentatively. It's cold, like it always is. She admires the dagger lovingly. They had been to hell and back together.
Looking out the window, she realizes that it's dark already. No wonder she felt drained. Without bothering to eat, she goes to her bedroom and undresses. Naked, she slips under the sheets and falls asleep.
About two weeks later, a thick blanket of snow covers both the lands of Kotou and Konan. Urami wakes to the chill of winter, shivering, and dresses into her warmer, heavier clothes quickly. She goes to the kitchen section to make herself a hot mash consisting of rice, wheat, and cream. After hurriedly eating, she slips on her boots. Slowly, though, she enters the tanto's room and sheaths it. She ties the leather straps around her lower arm for a quicker extraction time.
She steps outside of the room, then walks swiftly to the door of her house. After mentally scanning the house again, she steps outside. Once there, she remembers to pull up her hood to cover her mass of ember-colored hair. Smartly, she had chosen an outfit of white with faint silver patterns. She would blend in with the snow perfectly, though she would still need a mount. She decides to 'borrow' her neighbor's white stallion.
She approaches his paddock quietly. The magnificent beast looks at her and snorts softly. She climbs over the fence and walks to the stallion. He sniffs her thoroughly and is not alarmed. She wraps her hand in a section of his mane and leads him to the gate. She opens it and guides him out. She mounts quickly, using no tack, and nudges him with her knees. He takes off into a canter, sending the snow flying behind him.
Bent low over the stallion's neck, Urami squints against the offending snowflakes. Blindly, she guides the beast towards Konan, her mind never straying off her assignment, the blue-haired monk named Chichiri.
(Weee!)
Very soon, she finds herself in the comforts of her own home. She sits down in her plain wooden chair and removes one hard-bottomed shoe, then the other. She stands, and after mentally scanning the house many times, walks into a very small room. There, a tanto is resting on a pillow. She touches the blade tentatively. It's cold, like it always is. She admires the dagger lovingly. They had been to hell and back together.
Looking out the window, she realizes that it's dark already. No wonder she felt drained. Without bothering to eat, she goes to her bedroom and undresses. Naked, she slips under the sheets and falls asleep.
About two weeks later, a thick blanket of snow covers both the lands of Kotou and Konan. Urami wakes to the chill of winter, shivering, and dresses into her warmer, heavier clothes quickly. She goes to the kitchen section to make herself a hot mash consisting of rice, wheat, and cream. After hurriedly eating, she slips on her boots. Slowly, though, she enters the tanto's room and sheaths it. She ties the leather straps around her lower arm for a quicker extraction time.
She steps outside of the room, then walks swiftly to the door of her house. After mentally scanning the house again, she steps outside. Once there, she remembers to pull up her hood to cover her mass of ember-colored hair. Smartly, she had chosen an outfit of white with faint silver patterns. She would blend in with the snow perfectly, though she would still need a mount. She decides to 'borrow' her neighbor's white stallion.
She approaches his paddock quietly. The magnificent beast looks at her and snorts softly. She climbs over the fence and walks to the stallion. He sniffs her thoroughly and is not alarmed. She wraps her hand in a section of his mane and leads him to the gate. She opens it and guides him out. She mounts quickly, using no tack, and nudges him with her knees. He takes off into a canter, sending the snow flying behind him.
Bent low over the stallion's neck, Urami squints against the offending snowflakes. Blindly, she guides the beast towards Konan, her mind never straying off her assignment, the blue-haired monk named Chichiri.
(Weee!)