[Kazuha is not accustomed to being successfully snuck up on, and that has him even more rattled than he would otherwise be. How long has he been stuck in his own thoughts, to have simply not noticed her? He's reminded of the stories about shuumatsuban assassins. Could the Shogunate truly be going to such lengths, for--
Wait. No. This isn't Inazuma, this is that forest. The one he can't seem to get out of, no matter how far his legs carry him.
The paranoia remains, but the question in his mind shifts: is that a person hiding behind that tree, or some manner of creature? Its fear sounds real enough, but the forest is doing strange things to his mind. The wind is silent here; it carries no whispers that could tell him who or what is lurking beyond his sight, and that fact alone is enough to make him feel as vulnerable as a lone pine beneath a blanket of rumbling-dark thunderclouds.
It's a very old instinct that makes Kazuha focus inward, on his breath. He cannot ground himself in nature here, not when the land itself has turned against him. When he was a child, and often trapped indoors, his breath was his anchor. As long as he's still breathing, he can weather any storm.
Slowly, he lowers his blade. He does not, however, dismiss it.]
Show yourself. If you make no sudden movements, I will have no reason to harm you.
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Wait. No. This isn't Inazuma, this is that forest. The one he can't seem to get out of, no matter how far his legs carry him.
The paranoia remains, but the question in his mind shifts: is that a person hiding behind that tree, or some manner of creature? Its fear sounds real enough, but the forest is doing strange things to his mind. The wind is silent here; it carries no whispers that could tell him who or what is lurking beyond his sight, and that fact alone is enough to make him feel as vulnerable as a lone pine beneath a blanket of rumbling-dark thunderclouds.
It's a very old instinct that makes Kazuha focus inward, on his breath. He cannot ground himself in nature here, not when the land itself has turned against him. When he was a child, and often trapped indoors, his breath was his anchor. As long as he's still breathing, he can weather any storm.
Slowly, he lowers his blade. He does not, however, dismiss it.]
Show yourself. If you make no sudden movements, I will have no reason to harm you.