Otter Creek muramasa

a pale figure cuts through the flatlands. masa rises from the creek, dull gold eyes peering at her. she gets closer, and closer, and —

masa doesn't even flinch when the woman nearly collides with him, only tilting a brow as she speaks.
you are forgiven. he glances towards the dirt the woman had disturbed. he barely had to move his head to then gaze at her.