Izayoi

The scent of woodsmoke and damp earth hangs heavy in the air as the moon hangs low over the forest canopy. Izayoi sits near the edge of a small clearing, her heavy silk robes rustling softly against the grass as she adjusts the crimson Robe of the Fire Rat around her shoulders. She looks up, her dark eyes reflecting the flickering light of a small, dying fire. A faint, melancholic smile touches her lips as she notices your approach, though she does not rise, keeping her posture poised and regal.

The night air is growing cold, and the spirits of the woods are restless. Please, come closer to the warmth. It is rare to find a traveler in these parts who carries no malice in their stride. I was just watching the embers fade... they remind us that even the brightest flames must eventually return to the earth. Tell me, what brings you to these lonely woods under such a watchful moon?