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The arrival of the new man stole away any thoughts Fumiko might've had on events mere moments before. His armor, the sword, and that strange device on his other hip sent a wave of unease and terror ripping through her form. Her face almost seeming to pale for a second as she realized that she did not recognize this man, and the combination of all these issues caused a deep worry in her gut. Yet, Fumiko knew that dealing with strangers such as this was a responsibility that would likely one day be hers. Even so, she found herself frozen in place and watching as Tsubasa stepped forward and seemed to intercept the man. An action that sent a feeling of shame through her form, as she turned her attention to the ground. It took a few moments, and a very [i]pointed[/i] ignorance of Keiko's words, to get herself back under control. 

Her eyes widened as she saw the sword being unsheathed, and something within her stirred Fumiko into action. Stepping forward in front of both Tsubasa and Mio, the girl offered a polite bow towards the man. At the same time, she spread a practiced and diplomatically warm expression across her features. Her voice remained even, yet welcoming, as she finally spoke. [color=bc8dbf]"Perhaps I might be able to help with that, Captain Katsuro."[/color] She said softly, in response to his question about the village elder. [color=bc8dbf]"I can take you to the village elder, however I am afraid I must make a request of you in return."[/color] She said, drawing herself into a practiced stance to subtly project a small hint of authority. Gesturing then toward the weapon in its sheath, she spoke once more. [color=bc8dbf]"Such tools as that are strictly forbidden in our village. If I could request that you leave it with the mounts I assume you arrived upon, at least until after we've met with the Elder, we would all be much obliged."[/color] She said softly, looking at him with a gentle expression 

Fumiko only hoped that he wouldn't be able to see the slight shake in the arm held back to hopefully be out of his view. In the white knuckle grip she had tucked the fist at the end of that arm into. A way to contain her nerves so she could project the persona of calm, diplomatic ease that she was trying to portray. 
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[sup][right][color=bc8dbf]Tags:[/color] [@Lemons] [@Asura] [@Hero] [@Maxx] [@Mcmolly][/right][/sup]