04-04-2020, 11:54 AM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]Not too long ago, Kazuhira lived in a world where every stranger was an enemy, and every unplanned appearance, unscheduled visit and discussion a potential threat. Anyone, anything, could wield tooth and claw if they felt particularly self-assured that day. Worse, they carried weapons and set traps in the thickets for unsuspecting rogues to fall victim to, taking limbs, eyes, lives, if nobody was around to save them. Lone wolves were perhaps the least of his worries at the time, as they appeared just as frequently as they were removed, but the scent of a stranger arriving at the train tracks still reminded him of past conflict. His hackles rose by reflex, bristling at the thought.
He knew they were innocent at best, well-versed in clan secrets (but hardly malignant) at worst. If this were any other time and place, Kazuhira would shoo them off with a warning, tell them to come back with a better reason for their trespassing. The Typhoon were a self-sufficient bunch. But those days were over, he knew; as a newcomer to the Typhoon himself, the most he could do was watch his own back. His peers seemed more willing to mingle with traders, as the bustling tavern seemed to prove.
"...Trade what?" The cheetah would raise a brow if he could, but instead he gives a flick of his tail, glances at the unfamiliar face of Hushsound. He doesn't have much to offer, nor does he really want to, but it wouldn't hurt to inquire.
He knew they were innocent at best, well-versed in clan secrets (but hardly malignant) at worst. If this were any other time and place, Kazuhira would shoo them off with a warning, tell them to come back with a better reason for their trespassing. The Typhoon were a self-sufficient bunch. But those days were over, he knew; as a newcomer to the Typhoon himself, the most he could do was watch his own back. His peers seemed more willing to mingle with traders, as the bustling tavern seemed to prove.
"...Trade what?" The cheetah would raise a brow if he could, but instead he gives a flick of his tail, glances at the unfamiliar face of Hushsound. He doesn't have much to offer, nor does he really want to, but it wouldn't hurt to inquire.