“[i]aum shantae aum. aum shantae nemo padhome aum.[/i]”

Nails slam into wood with such violence that sheep, sudden-spooked, bleat plaintively. Rose from the River needs no hammer. Between nails she chisels the words of her jewel mantra into the air. [i]aum shantae aum. aum shantae aum. aum shantae nemo padhome aum.[/i]

Princess Chen [i]trusted[/i] her. And the greatest good for the harmony of all things demands that this task be completed before pursuit. It is necessary that this road remain open; leaving it undone just because she can imagine those dark, pleading eyes staring at her through the rear window of a car now long gone? Just because she can feel her flesh straining with the desire to bloom into a terrible new form, many-limbed and many-jawed, a monster to equal anything that the Watchman has ever fought? Just because Rose from the River wants to feel good about herself, wants to pick up the girl and hear the sigh of relief into that scarf as Chen nuzzles into her arms?

There is [i]work[/i] to be [i]done[/i].

The last nail sinks deep; too deep. She reaches behind the fence and bends the tip back in a neat curve. There. Now no sheep will find itself caught or bloodied by her carelessness. She stands, ignoring the thanks from those left behind in the car’s wake. She does not have time to accept the thanks for her work.

Up on the fence, on the pads of her feet. From there to the lower branches of a tree leaning over the flock. Up. Thank you, old one; your branches are strong. [i]aum shantae aum.[/i] She moves in sudden shocking bursts, much like a cat, until she is perched on the very top of the tree for the space of a breath. Her weight focuses down to the size of a pin, and the trunk groans beneath her as she balances. Then, only then, she leaps.

Her braids stream behind her as she soars in an arc, trousers billowing, her blade held out to her side undrawn. And she looks out over hill and valley and forest, looks at the car on the winding single-lane road, looks at brake lights as small as puncture wounds, looks to the turn-off where the car will ascend into the sun-dappled wood. Going to find foxes, ha! And if you cannot give them a monster, a Princess is fine enough. Where were you when there was the work left undone?

Rose from the River reaches the apex, and she breathes out. In that moment of weightlessness, she makes herself empty, a vessel to be filled, and lets the wind twist her where it will. Then she falls like the sudden bolt of lightning which strides across the sky.

She hits the ground running. Still on two legs, but running all the same. Running because she has the momentum and she must move, because it is all she can do not to drop to all fours and lope faster, because her bare feet are sure and nimble on the grass, because her heart is an engine that churns and roils and can only barely be constrained and directed. Her self resides in the fire but does not burn; it radiates light to the eight corners of her heart. She sits within herself and observes her own unaware grace, her sensation of motion in the moment that does not begin or end.

Chen, little Twinshard-heir, Rose from the River makes for your destination. You are not her first and dearest responsibility; not yet. But when she finds the one who took you, then you will see the anger of an ancient huntress, for as it is said:

[i]The birds are disturbed in their motion,
the clouds above roil and churn.
Better to throw oneself into the hungry earth
than awaken the pious woman’s wrath.[/i]

And yet, perhaps it will be longer still, for though Rose from the River may take a more direct route than the car may, still she may have more perils on her path. The Way does not protect its disciples from the ebb and swell of the world around them; it merely calls upon them to do better, to achieve more by more noble means, and to make the path to harmony smoother for the feet of all. Bold Thorn Pilgrim! Where shall those bare feet take you, hurtling as fast as you may?

[Rose from the River trusts in the Way to make her path short, seeking to perform the amazing feat of arriving at the fox before the car and its passengers can. However, she rolls a [b]5[/b] with Spirit, claiming her second XP and allowing for a Downbeat.]