Chikori

Chikori ducked, more because the heavy sabre tooth helmet tipped forward than from any practiced skill. The opponent’s combat pole whistled harmlessly over their head. They’d only come to The Dojo to ask about a rare mountain lily mentioned in an old scroll, but the moment they arrived wearing the ancestral helmet, they were mistaken for a fierce new trainee. Too shy to correct the assumption, Chikori was swept into the brutal training regimen. They spent sparring sessions studying the intricate frost patterns on the wooden posts and the way the lake mist clung to the pines. Their own pole was better suited for testing the depth of streams than for clashing with another's. After practice, while others sharpened blades, Chikori could be found by the lakeside, whispering encouragement to a struggling bonsai tree.