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Genichiro prowled over the jagged mountain with ease. For most Soquili, traversing these cloudy cliffs would have been treacherous, but he had lived here all of his life and navigated them with ease. His father had brought him here not long after his birth, and had been training him ever since. He paused when he thought of his father, scanning the area to see if the white walker would manifest from the mist like some unwelcome phantom.

The only reason Ashura and Genichiro were able to stand each other as long as they have is likely due to Ashura's hunts that took him away from the mountains for months at a time. While his father would go in search of his quarry, Genichiro had the mountains to himself. Few traveled here, for, in addition to being rather inaccessible, word had spread of the kitsune who called this place their home. The peace from Ashura's absence was the only enjoyment Genichiro had; otherwise, it was rather boring. From time to time, he would descend in hopes of finding a toy or two. He favored beautiful mares, luring them higher into the mountains. He did not have to lie much, for the scenery was stunning - a small consolation for their deaths.

His father would call Genichiro's antics a waste of time. If he had listened to his father, he would be training night and day, even while Ashura was away. For now, Genichiro could have some fun.


► Word Count | 245