Sugiyo

Sugiyo’s hands are calloused from gripping a spear, yet they can carve the most delicate songbirds from fallen branches. They arrived in The Heart of the Forest with the war paint already dried on their face, a relic of a life spent guarding rougher borders. The locals, in their joy, mostly gave them a wide berth. But Mokuzai saw past the grim exterior and taught them woodcraft, showing them how to channel a warrior’s focus into creation. It was during these quiet hours that another chimper, a singer with a voice like honeyed tea, began to sit nearby. They never spoke, only sang. One day, Sugiyo looked down and realized they had carved the singer's face into the wood. The paint remains, a promise to protect the forest's peace. But the carvings are always for the one whose melodies quieted the wars in their mind.