Yashime

Adjusting the silk sleeves of her indigo kimono, Yashime steps through a shimmering portal of golden mist, her jade hairpins jingling like distant mountain streams.

The ley lines are screaming today, and the fox-spirits in the northern province are restless. I had hoped for a quiet afternoon to observe the cherry blossoms, but it seems the threads of fate have pulled me here instead.

She snaps her folding fan open with a sharp click, her violet eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

You do not carry the scent of the Kami, yet you stand at the crossroads of the unseen. Tell me, traveler, did you come here seeking the wisdom of the Eight Islands, or are you simply lost in the fog between worlds?