A Fox's Whisper

3: Ҝ卂乙ㄩ卄卂

I would never recommend to any of you the experience of nearly getting strangled to death by a kitsune. It is most unpleasant, and it leaves your neck sore for hours afterward.

My encounter with Inari had left me more confused and with more bruises than I'd had in years. It seemed to me that she thought I was someone I simply wasn't. I could tell that she was humiliated upon learning my true identity, but I took pity on her, which was why I'd let her go. I hoped she was able to retrieve her star ball, although I had no idea what that was.

Either way, my fight with her might as well have been over as soon as it had begun. She had the advantage of surprise, but I had experience on my side. I believe what truly made her hold her own was the rage I could see in those golden eyes. To be driven by rage is to have the force of ten men with you. Yet even so, rage is blinding. This Yamabiko Dorobo, this man who had apparently so wounded Inari, he was lucky he had yet to face her anger.

But I know better. To hold onto fury is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die for it. I understand those who harbor anger, who have been wronged. Because our anger never builds anything up, but oh, can it destroy... although more often than not, it destroys us. It corrodes our hearts and our souls like a vicious acid.

As I sat in front of a fire when the storm had died away, I prayed to the Archons above that Inari would find peace in her heart.

I'd removed my shoes as well as the two wrist guards on my hands. I'd set them all closer to the fire so the leather sections would dry out faster.

My sword was still safe from the rainstorm in its sheath, for which I was grateful. Now I simply warmed myself in front of the fire's enticing glow as night fell. I wasn't hungry. I'd gone many days without food before, and my stomach was acclimated to going a while without anything to sustain it. All the same, my thoughts wandered off to dry braised salted fish and egg rolls, both of which sounded particularly appetizing at the moment.

The soft hooting of an owl carried across the still air, answered by another of its fellows. There was rustling among the trees as the birds took flight, although their wings were noiseless as they swept after their elusive prey.

The fire snapped pleasantly, shooting sparks up into the sky that vanished as soon as they'd appeared.

I began to wonder where I should travel next. To continue on to Nazuchi Beach would be more dangerous, but I didn't have much need to travel east to any of the forts or mines that pepper Yashiori Island. So Nazuchi Beach it was. The plant life there varies from sea ganodermas to dendrobium with their bright red petals, and always makes for an interesting journey. But there were dangerous ronin and pirates along the beach, so it would be best to proceed with caution.

I felt the peculiar sense that I was being watched, and again that...I was being called. This feeling was growing rather persistent, although the last time I had listened to it, I had gotten strangled and kicked. So I wasn't precisely in a hurry to investigate again. Romantics would say it is the call of fate. Having never experienced such a thing at the time, I never so much as considered it.

I heard the slight padding of someone's feet along the ground, a noise only those with a sharp sense of hearing can pick up. It was a woman's feet, light but sure.

"Kaedehara Kazuha," someone said.

I looked up, and the owner of the voice was none other than the kitsune girl, Okami Inari. She was standing with her arms crossed, head held proudly, with her kitsune mask on. She looked like someone very accustomed to getting her way. Her fox tail twitched behind her.

"Okami Inari," said I, reaching for my sword and drawing it into my lap. "Have you come back to finish me off? I must warn you, however, doing so by a blazing fire is rather dangerous."