ghost house
@nohrianlance
The water rushing in the garden outside echoed into the room she sat in. Legs tucked comfortably under her, Mitama’s gaze remained focused on her task at hand, calmly folding the sheets of paper that piled to her side. Before her sat a blank canvas, work slowly beginning to creep in from the lower right corner.
It was quiet, peaceful. For a moment Mitama could almost imagine she was still at her home, the place she had grown from infancy into adulthood.If she closed her eyes and let her mind slow, she could almost place herself back in her old room, with the soft footsteps of her caretakers passing the halls as they went about their tasks.
But this was not there, and Mitama was reminded of that by the approaching sound of armor towards where she sat. The room belonged to no one person, so she could not scold them for interrupting her. That did not mean she enjoyed it. She frowned and sighed as the door slid open. “To what great pleasure do I owe this approach? Is someone about to meet the gods?”











