Bearclaw Valley Rubadubdub

Keiko awoke on the second morning of Nagatsuki to a cold nip in the air. Already, summer’s warm embrace was fading and, hour by hour, the days grew shorter. However, the land was still decked in lush verdant green foliage, the tree colors had barely yet changed.

The young woman rose from her sleeping nest and collected her belongings, which had waned to almost nothing since her travels had begun. A small parcel of cured fish and dried salmonberries accompanied an amulet crafted of hardwood and bone, wrapped in a broad river-leaf. Keiko thought she understood the challenges of life alone beyond her beloved shrine, but each day it became more obvious that she hadn’t the smallest inkling of what it took to survive in the wilds.

It had been some time since she had met a fellow traveler or village. Discouraged, but not defeated, Keiko continued across Chapparal into a mountain valley. Suddenly, a peculiar noise caught her attention. Curious, Keiko approached until she caught sight of the massive alabaster figure.

“Masaka!” she exclaimed as her belongings dropped from her grasp. Had she stumbled upon the holy land of her beloved Kami?