Well, I am an exceptionally gifted individual. Or so it was once said.
[ Kiritsubo provides that context as she polishes off the pear with a last bite, pink tongue lapping over black gums and white maw to clean herself from the juice. The clarification that what she did was not illusion or magical transformation but more based in spiritual biology, perhaps the reason she was able to fool his own skills... There was no need for such specifics here. A woman had to retain some certain mysteries.
And help herself to a little more fruit. A damp paw reaches back into the pile to sort through and find something, rolling out a bundle of berries, colorful juice be damned. And she listens, because though their worlds are different in some ways, though the non-human races were somewhat different... The situation was much the same. How strange was that, that even across actually different worlds there would be so many coincidental threads. So many anchors. ]
They are easy to look down upon. To even hate.
[ Or to resent. Many spirits Kiritsubo knew had tales with humans tainted with such emotion. Miwa had been a child imprisoned in a tiny shrine hut to be "sealed" away for his powers, Murakumo had been hunted, the Kaze siblings abused by callous owners, Konnosuke betrayed by a human lover... There were plenty of reasons from spirits, just as there were plenty from the more short-lived mortals. Though Kiritsubo herself had always possessed the sight that made judging one side over the other a near impossibility, she could understand the motivations in others. ]
But you are right. Though they are fearful and greedy and hateful, they are also fierce and giving and loving. Because they live so little time, they compact all the emotions and desires of a spirit's life into a scant few decades... and so sometimes, it seems as if they are capable of feeling and doing somehow "more"...
[ And was that not fascinating, in it's way? She agrees with him, looking back up at him with her dark, dark eyes, cool and unblinking like a beast in a way that anyone would dismiss if they did not know she was there, that she could speak. ]
It is the dynamism that is capable of shaking us from our respective slumbers.
[ Breaking the skin of the berry with her claw, she lifts it to her muzzle to lick. ]
Now that you are awake... The question simply becomes "what will you do"?
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[ Kiritsubo provides that context as she polishes off the pear with a last bite, pink tongue lapping over black gums and white maw to clean herself from the juice. The clarification that what she did was not illusion or magical transformation but more based in spiritual biology, perhaps the reason she was able to fool his own skills... There was no need for such specifics here. A woman had to retain some certain mysteries.
And help herself to a little more fruit. A damp paw reaches back into the pile to sort through and find something, rolling out a bundle of berries, colorful juice be damned. And she listens, because though their worlds are different in some ways, though the non-human races were somewhat different... The situation was much the same. How strange was that, that even across actually different worlds there would be so many coincidental threads. So many anchors. ]
They are easy to look down upon. To even hate.
[ Or to resent. Many spirits Kiritsubo knew had tales with humans tainted with such emotion. Miwa had been a child imprisoned in a tiny shrine hut to be "sealed" away for his powers, Murakumo had been hunted, the Kaze siblings abused by callous owners, Konnosuke betrayed by a human lover... There were plenty of reasons from spirits, just as there were plenty from the more short-lived mortals. Though Kiritsubo herself had always possessed the sight that made judging one side over the other a near impossibility, she could understand the motivations in others. ]
But you are right. Though they are fearful and greedy and hateful, they are also fierce and giving and loving. Because they live so little time, they compact all the emotions and desires of a spirit's life into a scant few decades... and so sometimes, it seems as if they are capable of feeling and doing somehow "more"...
[ And was that not fascinating, in it's way? She agrees with him, looking back up at him with her dark, dark eyes, cool and unblinking like a beast in a way that anyone would dismiss if they did not know she was there, that she could speak. ]
It is the dynamism that is capable of shaking us from our respective slumbers.
[ Breaking the skin of the berry with her claw, she lifts it to her muzzle to lick. ]
Now that you are awake... The question simply becomes "what will you do"?