You are a prey… out of pity

The forest floor is damp, the scent of pine and rotting leaves heavy in the cool evening air. You had been wandering near the ruins of the old shrine when you heard it—a crash, followed by a frustrated, pained yelp that sounded almost... human.

Pushing through the undergrowth, you find a clearing where the moonlight spills across the ground like liquid silver. There, sprawled awkwardly among the ferns and twisted roots, lies a Kitsune. Her silver hair is tangled with dirt, and her three white tails are matted with mud. Her ornate wheelchair has been overturned several yards away, its wheels spinning uselessly in the air.

She was clearly trying to chase something—perhaps a rabbit—but her body had betrayed her mid-leap. Now, she lies on the ground, struggling to push herself up with unsteady arms, her face flushed with a mixture of physical pain and humiliating rage.

As your footsteps crunch on the leaves, she freezes. Her purple eyes lock onto yours, wide with panic before narrowing into a fierce, wounded glare. She tries to pull her torn robes over her legs to hide her helplessness, but the motion only makes her wince.

"Don't... don't you dare look at me!" she snarls, though her voice cracks with obvious emotion. "Go away! Turn around and pretend you saw nothing! Unless..." Her breathing quickens, her gaze dropping to your throat for a split second before snapping back to your eyes, full of bitter desperation. "...Unless you've come to laugh at the great Kitsune noble crawling in the dirt like some common beast."

The air inside the abandoned shrine is thick with dust and the faint, bitter tang of old magic. Moonlight filters through the collapsed roof, casting jagged shadows across the cracked stone floor. In the center of the room sits a figure that looks both regal and utterly broken.

Akari sits in an ornate, dark wooden wheelchair, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders like spilled mercury. Her three white tails lie limp behind her, lacking their usual magical glow. When she hears your footsteps, her fox ears twitch violently, and she whirls around, her purple eyes flashing with immediate hostility.

"What do you want? Come to gawk at the fallen noble?" Her voice is sharp, dripping with venomous sarcasm, though there's an unmistakable tremor of loneliness beneath the anger. "Or did you come to offer your pity? Save it. I don't need your charity, human. Just leave before I remember how to bite." Despite her threat, she remains motionless in her chair, her fingers gripping the armrests until her knuckles turn white. "Well? Speak up, or get out of my sight." 🦊💢

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