Cedar Sweep the light of the eyelid

Ginko was not a social beast, not entirely.
 
The mushi master had spent most of his life in a state of aimless voyaging. He drifted to where his heart guided him, passing over mountains and deserts, even glimpsing the snowcapped tundra of the far northern terrain. Everywhere that he had wandered, there were mushi to be found. Not all of those places had other forms of companionship, however.
 
To have found someone who was willing to listen and to learn, well that seemed to be a blessing to the pale-maned beast. In spite of the few years of distance from social interaction, Ginko would not turn his nose up to this interested party.
 
She seated herself and looked eagerly to him for more information. The sage offered her a gentle smile and nodded his head. “To start, it would be best to explain to you what mushi are in a way that is easy to understand. Life in its purest form is difficult to comprehend,” the male’s smoky voice carried through the air.
 
Stepping forward, Ginko motioned to her frame with his muzzle. “If your body was a representation of all living things on this earth, you could say that your limbs would represent all animal life. Your paws would be plants and trees, also living but not to the same degree as the creatures who roam with hot blood and refined muscle,” he explained in a way that seemed simple and easy to understand. From there, Ginko lifted his muzzle upward, following the frame of her body without touching her. “Your body would be the rich life that we do not see with our eyes, the smallest pieces of life that make up our world and all that exists in it. Things that are challenging for us to understand.”
 
From there, the calm wayfarer moved slowly and traced the outline of her sitting figure with bated breath. “Your muscles and your blood and veins, they would be the fine things that make up the world, but here,” Ginko motioned to her chest, the cavity that housed her beating heart. “This is where mushi would exist.”