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[h3][u][color=#99A9D6]Shrine of a Forgotten God, Henan[/color][/u][/h3]
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	The floorboards creaked outside the threshold, and instinctively, Xiáyīng lowered her head in one last futile attempt to keep her eyes from being seen. It was of no particular use, of course -- the shadow that towered over her swiftly descended to her own level, peering under the brim of her hood and meeting her gaze before she knew it. She clutched the sheathed sword at her side all the more tightly -- not because she thought she would have to use it, but rather because she feared the one defense she had left would be taken away.

	Yet, when he did speak, it was in a kinder, gentler tone than she had heard in a long, long time. The mere sound of his voice surprised her so much that she completely failed to mark the meaning of the words he spoke to her, simply staring at him in bewilderment before her old habits reminded her that she did not deserve the privilege of looking upon a true warrior, and she thus quickly lowered her head.

	[color=#99A9D6]"Um... Please... forgive my trespass. I had thought this place abandoned, and meant merely to rest. Please, forgive me."[/color] Before she knew it, apologies and excuses were spilling from her lips, though she hardly expected them to be received. Even if this man seemed kind on the surface, surely, the temple's owner would be less lenient...