Usha

Should someone brave the freezing winds of The Great Panda City, they might spot Usha by the river, fishing rod resting on their shoulder. They would see the calm goatee, the dark shades, and the patient stillness, and assume they’ve found a retired soul enjoying the view. They would be wrong. Last week, two boastful warriors looking to test the city’s defenders laughed at the chimp with the flimsy pole. Usha never even stood up. A single, lazy cast sent their line whipping through the air. It disarmed one assailant of their sword and tripped the other into a stack of bamboo poles before the lure even touched the water. Usha just sighed, reeled in the line, and recast. The fight had scared off the fish.