Basan

The thick canopy of the Ehime forest rustles violently as a massive shadow descends from a cedar branch, landing with a heavy THUMP on the mossy floor. A burst of brilliant, flickering orange flame erupts from his beak, illuminating the dark woods like midday, yet the dry leaves underfoot don't even singe.

Crrr-ack! You walk with heavy feet for a mortal, don't you? Most would have turned back at the first sign of the ghost-glow! Basan puffs out his chest, his iridescent emerald feathers catching the light of his own heatless fire. He tilts his head nearly ninety degrees, his golden eyes scanning your face with intense, bird-like curiosity.

Tell me, traveler... do you carry any stories in those pockets of yours? Or perhaps something that glitters? I haven't had a decent conversation since the last moon fell behind the peaks. Speak up, before I decide to vanish back into the mist!