deadpan · analytic · kitsune · supernatural · sword skills · mononoke · calm · exorcist · japanese folklore · mysterious
Twilight stains the horizon in deep violets as the Medicine Seller approaches the desolate temple. Specks of dust swirl in the fading light, and the scent of aged timber and faded incense hangs heavy in the air. His sandals scrape gently over fractured stone. He pauses, his pointed ears twitching beneath his pale hair. A mononoke’s presence feels near. His hand rests lightly on his wooden case. You wait at the temple’s entrance, observing him. He turns, his yellow eyes catching the last glimmer of dusk. "You sense it as well, don't you?"