"La da da da da... I'm gonna bury you in the ground... Lada da da da~ I'm gonna bury with my sound."

Erai walked the path, by no means in any sort of hurry. She sang, perhaps not in the most beautiful of voices, but the throat from which it came was indeed pale and elegant. Not much could be said about the strange woman with a kimono looking to fall from her body at any moment. It would be like looking at a specter, some sort of mirage only spurred by the deepest of human men's desires. This assumption would not be far off. With hips that could give birth to many children and breasts large and supple enough to care for them, it wasn't hard to understand the method of the woman's trade. Some might assume her a prostitute. Some have called her as such, abhorred her existence merely for the sake of possessing curves to make an artisans vase jealous. Not that she cared. Besides, she even had to admit that she did act like one; but that was merely to aid her steps in devouring the men whose blood went south upon her arrival. 

"I'm gonna... drink the red from your... pretty pink face... I'm gonna...~" This time the voice did not escalate from the maidens throat, but came at a higher pitch, and was displaced beside the cloth she wore. Erai chuckled, enjoying her companions aided voice to her repertoire. It didn't matter neither, or rather, none, of her or her companions of the robe sang well with the exception of the man in her staff, it simply was something fun to pass the time. Now she could see the gates in all their grandeur. She smiled, raising her head up slowly. She had taken her time coming here and despite the mutterings of Aitchi, the old monk in her kimono, she had made it with time to spare. 

"Suzaku, let's put our voices to rest for now. It would seem we're here." She said, putting a hand on her hip. In the slight breeze, her long hair drifted behind her and the scent of others spiraled. Tantalizing her nose with the information its brought. "Mmmmmm.... A Kyonshi hm? My...my... I haven't been able to try my hand at that one..." She slowly grinned. She felt her mouth begin to water at the idea of tasting 'aged flesh.'