Yasae

Yasae cast the fishing line, not towards the lake, but at the feet of the dojo’s top brawler. Laughter echoed through the training grounds of The Dojo. A noble with a Meow Cap and a fishing rod was a fine joke, but a poor duelist. The brawler lunged, staff raised high, expecting an easy victory. But the line was already moving, wrapping tight around their ankle with a sharp tug. They stumbled, balance lost for a critical second. It was all the time Yasae needed. With another flick, the lure snagged the staff from their grasp, sending it clattering across the stones. Yasae simply reeled in their line, the shiny lure clicking softly against the rod, as their opponent stared, dumbfounded. Patience, they had learned, catches more than just fish.