Hideaway Strath kabukimono

winding sweep
afternoon

cedar-scent; it clings to every inch of these woods, hangs in the air like incense.

satsu finds that she misses the sweet-rot of the orchard to the north, but she will come to appreciate what she has, in time.
there are no ghosts here.

a sense of freedom carries with her as she explores her new home—first, plucking her way among slumbering fiddleheads.

the grit of pollen works its way deep among her furs, until she stops to groom the yellowing from the plush of her belly; it returns within moments, to her frustration.

it is hard to know where to start or what to do — life does not feel as rigid here as it did upon her father's han, nor as desperate as being alone.

the woman was here again.
ramesses followed the wending of her scent, the quiet figure who had joined them. his own sense of pride suggested that he had been the one to introduce the strathwood.
sungold motes upon her fur. pharaoh stopped himself to watch with a smirk, before joining the woman and yellowing himself, bright against the stark snow of his fur.
nothing to be said for now, only his great and arrogant curiosity.

try as she might, satsu cannot purge the blushing notes from her coat. they remind her of the games her brothers used to play in the snow; draw the longest line being common, or write your kanji, sign your name!
such things were crude reminders of what had been lost. moments she had not appreciated.

someone else moved among the trees but by now satsu was accustomed to being around others. she did not look up immediately. a part of her is afraid of seeing the wardog from the night of her arrival; or kyn-dono.
when the figure stops nearby she finally gathers her wits, and looks.
it is the pale man from the watershed. he moves unbothered by the pollen, watching her.

satsu wonders if he owns this space; perhaps she disturbs him, and so, nods with an apology in her eyes as they avert.

the way she pulled her eyes from him was intoxicating in its simplicity. pharaoh thirsted for even remnants of the honor he had once enjoyed. he was ashamed of this, however, holding more tightly to the notion that he was owed such.
the priestess did not know her proper role;
this woman did.
appealing, though not was visceral as his attraction to the coyote-man.
"what did you make of kynareth and nyra?" he inquired, assuming she had met both of them. he certainly would not forget the first interaction he had been given with nyra.

the man spoke of kyn-dono and the woman.

satsu was careful in her response. poised with her chin lightly tucked, her neck arched like a resting crane.

the daimyo... is intimidating. the image of him thrashing side-to-side with a deer neck in his jaws.
his guard, i do not know yet. i do not think she likes me. but these nanban held a different value system than her own people.
they could not see any value in the dancer's figure or her quick mind, only the lack of brutal strength. the absence of things they valued.

satsu was not sure if she cared to be liked by these people.
they make me feel small.

A wild Nyra has entered the chat lol

Patrolling, as usual, Nyra wound her way through the Strath, eventually glimpsing the forms of Ramesses and Satsu. 

From where she was, she could hear them conversing. Frankly, she wasn't trying to stay hidden at all, but if they didn't notice she was near, it wasn't any fault of hers. 
And with the air she held at all times, an aura of sovereignty, the Overseer came to them from the trees.

"I'm not Kynareth's guard. I am his equal, and I lead the Saints alongside him. As for not liking you, Satsu, I can assure you that's not true. I care for all of our members." 

Looking to the young girl, Nyra's golden gaze softened considerably. 
However, turning her eyes to Ramesses, those same hues darkened and could easily be considered murderous by newer faces. 

However, her scorching stare upon Ramesses didn't yet hold the promise of his death. It was, however, intended to be a clear yet silent warning: I'm watching you.

Back to Satsu, the soul-devouring acid of Nyra's stare once again sealed itself away.
"I hope that clears a few things up, yeah?" She inquired to the girl, swaying her tail in an easy motion to try and assure some sense of...comraderie, perhaps. Belonging.

last for me unless he is stopped hehehe

they make me feel small.
a dancer holds power from the gods, ramesses wanted to say, but the cold, dominant appearance of nyra cut short any of his words. 
she spoke to the reticent woman, her eyes filled with malevolence when they rested upon him. pharaoh only dipped his head, murmuring, "divine one" in greeting.
however, below his downturned head, pharaoh churned with anger. it was less the interruption and more than he chafed in the service of women, especially a woman whom had targeted him for violence before.
a brutish cur.
his time here, narrowing to a close.
when she turned back to the other, pharaoh chose this moment to turn away, prepared to halt if his leader demanded it, but unless this happened, he would only only go on.

the abruptness of her arrival reminds satsu to heed herself.
nyra; a powerhouse in her own right. her correction comes as a surprise and satsu blushes. she is not sure if she should bow to this woman or not — the concept still feels wrong to her.
gomen, gomen, she pleads.
the man slyly exits; leaving satsu there alone with the giant.

Nyra smiled softly as Satsu seemed to...apologize? Beg for forgiveness? She wasn't sure. The flower's language was foreign to the Empress. 

So, she went with a guess, given Satsu's tone with her words. 
"Easy, easy. I'm not offended by the assumption. I understand that the structure here is probably different than where you are from, I promise it's not an issue." Nyra assured, keeping her tone light enough it hopefully implied forgiveness and not rage. 

Meanwhile, the sly ex-royal took his leave.

heat flooded her cheeks; how foolish of satsu to speak so openly!
she shakes her head and keeps it low, trying to think of a way to remedy the situation (though, by nyra's account there was no harm done).
i did not mean, small, as in less. she tried to explain with her throat feeling tight and mouth like sandpaper—i mean, small. you are all... you are giants!
sheepish flicking of her ears, a bashful look upon nyra, who towered over the dancer.

To the...flustered? Explanation from the dancer, Nyra chuckled lightheartedly. 

"Most of us are indeed bigger. But we have our smaller members too. Aerin, for example. Arlette, too." The Overseer explained, swishing her tail in an extension of friendship, comraderie. 

"We don't all fight, though the skill is useful. Arlette and Aerin are medics, as is Vein. Dove, wherever she is, is also a healer, and a diviner." She smiled softly then, looking upon Satsu to see if this information helped at all.

satsu had to have noticed the differences. the massive warriors, suited for the defense of the han and the conquest of rivals. opposite to that, the slim-bodied creatures like herself, ill-suited for such tasks. they filled the niche of what was left.
yes, i.. should have noticed. she had been distracted by the flower gardens, the great forest, the hills; by pharaoh, by her own worries and hurts.
i once... wished to be a warrior. satsu went on to murmur.
it was not something my father welcomed. i became a dancer instead; but, that is not something i feel is... useful, here. i am certainly not a healer either.
musings aside, satsu's nerves steadied.

Nyra listens, casual, conversational.
Satsu confesses her once-wish to be a warrior, and at this the Empress perks her ears some.

"You could become a warrior here, if you wanted to. Or maybe you could learn medicines, or even become a scribe for our history?" Nyra suggested, tilting her head slightly.

The wish to help verbally was within the titan, but would it stay for very long before she used action rather than words to add a packmate?

the woman is focused.
the opportunity is there to add another warrior to their ranks and that is what she voices, giving rise to some hope within satsu that has been buried and forgotten for many days.
a scribe? the thought had never occurred to her.
the warriors here had many duties, and the healers were bountiful enough that they needed no extra help; during her stay so far, few injuries had occurred. satsu wondered if this other thing - this historian role - was worth pursuing.
i will consider it.
but what value is there, in telling the stories of another people?
would she inevitably forget the teachings of her own, in the process?

shall we start wrapping up here? <3

 


Nyra nods gently at the statement. She'd consider it, that would do for now.

"I think I've given you plenty to consider for now, yeah?" She smiles softly, turning to depart unless stopped.

sure! ty for the thread :)

satsu nods, which becomes a careful little bow.
she would indeed have much to think about, with her mind replaying the unfortunate moment of nyra's arrival on repeat for a while. what a blunder!
in the future she would be careful with what was said, and when, and around whom.