Eight billion billion kami

Itsuki had travelled a long time, and never thought that he would soon settle in another pack.

Granted, Itsuki never thought much about the future. It was too gossamer to glimpse, and speculation would get him nowhere. Itsuki thought little about the future because the future was, in a word, nonexistent. It hadn't happened, and therefore, could not knowingly be influenced despite the belief that it could be. His actions had consequences, naturally, but Itsuki's future was never certain, and so he had never expected.

Yet here he stood on the precipice of a mountain pack that vaguely reminded him of his homeland, and something else. The pale beast that had invited him had, after a long moment of scrutiny, left him there to make his way. The shuffling of leaves in the wind when she had arrived told Itsuki that the kami were interested in her. Her loa told her that she should be interested in him, and so the two had met, briefly conversed, deemed one another worthy, and that was that.

His first steps on the mountain were tentative and done in silent worship, as all his steps on new land were. Every landscape on this mountain had an associated kami, with the mountain kami presiding over the river kami and those of every rock and tree and living beast. Itsuki could not hope to understand them all at a glance. He wouldn't get the chance, he knew—she had told him they were leaving soon and he had accepted this without complaint, as he accepted all things in life but those tied to his wolfish instincts—but, nevertheless, his first steps were slow, timid, and full of respect for the local kami.