[color=cccccc][b]Shrine of a Forgotten God[/b][/color]
[b]Luo Yifang[/b]
[indent][color=cccccc]From the opposite side of the hill ascended the temple’s keeper. Luo Yifang’s body was tired, pointed where her bones pushed at her skin as if trying to escape—surely too thin against the cool weather even with her layers of dark clothes. Dark bags tugged at lower eyelids, and only the pink on her nose and cheeks hinted at life. And the fact that she was trudging up the hill, of course, a bucket of water tilting her body aside as she used all her strength to stay upright.

As she reached the temple from its back, she heard a whistle. Her thin brows furrowed toward each other in annoyance. Was she a dog? Maybe not, but she would answer the call all the same. 

With a dramatic exhale, she set the bucket down and the water stirred, splashing over the side. Free of its weight, she walked quickly around the small structure to meet the man who called for assistance. Usually members of the Luo clan only visited when they were injured, so haste came naturally to the woman. Mere moments could mean the difference between life and death. Though, now, she paused when she stepped into his sight.

Her dark eyes were drawn first to the red that topped his hat. As her hand raised to brush strands of stray hair away from her face, her gaze dropped with curiosity to the book in his hand, and then finally back up to his tired face. [/color]“Good evening,”[color=cccccc] she exhaled, the weariness from trudging up the hill suddenly catching up to her. [/color]“How can I help you?”[/indent]