@soilbleeds
The salty air; a small comfort of any seaside resident, the open door to world’s beyond.
The salty air; the breath of the earth’s wet and ever-hungry maw that swallowed those who glided upon her mirrored lips.
And this day, she spat up a boy. Ishiyo’s unfeeling eyes searched the shore and the rocks cradling it, unsure if this was a trap. It wasn’t uncommon for the petty criminals to use bait to catch one off guard. Yet she advanced, the weight of her trinity of swords reassuring her that she was capable of cutting down whomever would try to attack. The sleeves of her kimono are ushered forth by the breeze, but in the sky, she could see a storm brewing. The rain would come down in buckets, and to leave him out in such weather would be cruel, even for the famously cold woman.
Great.
Standing over the young man, the samurai extended her leg, pushing him over onto his back with her foot.
“Are you alive, boy?”
