KudosMetro

The man gripped his own equipment again, chitinous reinforced armor adorned and figure moving up the climbing stairs of the Sanctuary. An armless 'Tigrasi moving once more, shield adorned to his back and his gear at the ready—hand on the missive with a nod. "I thought we dealt with enough of them in the underground." He flicked his tail, a bellowing grumble from his maw as he reflected on the encounter. "Time for another scrape again— Let's see if they need a shield bearer." Verachone moved, readied for the coming hunt.

A huff reverberates from the emptier space left in the wake of the Mother Mountain Lizard's attack in Yumegatari, more silent as the crowd of warriors and adventurers went to exit and celebrate their defense. Four individuals left studying the beast, conjurers studying its form. . . then one once more. A lone farfolk with a broom, armored, and sweeping the sharp debris scattered from the broken building and center. Large material moved to a pile, and olden man cracking his back. "WO! What a day—" He chuckled, chipper. "Let us see what the rest of my years have in store for this band of adventurers. Maybe I'll be here long enough to see them be great." Tonu spoke it true, heart heavy as he felt his age quicken. . . but to know the flow of adventure again was lovely.

gasp— PLANT MAGIC??? +1 from me babes

A smile grew as his ears flicked against the breeze. A warmth patterning him as he sat as his desk, missive in hand as the towering man wrote. Singular 'Tigrasi paw moving his quill, stamping his note down with wax, directing those who read it to his stores he'd save since joining the Silan'siol. He chuckled, then. Kharajyr standing before his own note as he packed it onto his bird, tail wafting behind him and his lone paw sending the messenger off. "To the one this gets to. For fair warning, we are an unusual folk you'll be hosting, but know no danger comes with us or anything needing of change either. . . [!] Then a drawing of a cat and mouse next to each other. [!]" A goofy smile across his own face as he remembered the scribbling he'd left on the back of that same note. . . . "Let's hope they're fine with us." The hunter gave a hearty chuckle, going around the home of his Pride, gathering the Kharajyr and Musin who'd wish to join him on this venture. "Maybe the cubs will pick up a thing or two!" He roared, excited for the venture to come!

Within the barracks, a towering 'Tigrasi stands stoic. Shield equipped to his arm, slamming his fist into his Chitin chest plate. "Zar, Urve!" He roars, attentive as the Ythean remained vigilant for the next training. A smile on face as he unequipped his helm, heading to rest off the training fatigue. "Now. . . to get a partner to join us in the next training." He'd murmur, thinking of who to bring.

A 'Tigerasi smiles, missive in hand as he brought the extra copies forward, helping in embedding it onto the Notice Boards of Nor'asath and the Moonlight Sanctuary equally! "Time to get to decorating!" Verachone bounces, tail wafting in the wind as the towering Kha goes to help with event preparations!

An olden farfolk gasps as he looks upon the missive, a wide grin across his face as he nodded with resolve! "To think that today was his grand opening! I am glad I went!" Tonu took another bite of the cookies he'd bought and been given, having gone to the shop BEFORE the missive was out! "Mmmmm! What a delight!" And so, the farfolk went, tapping his cane along the Haenseti roads.

☾༻⸻⸻ [Guide] — The Remnant Kharajyr ⸻⸻༺☽ ( Left —> Right | Jun Suemi [from Guin Saga Art Series], A Stas [on ArtStation], Bram Sels [On ArtStation]) ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽ ⸻⸻ Original Lore ⸻⸻ The Remnant Kha https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/197080-%E2%9C%93-ca-race-lore-the-remnant-kha-updated/ https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/178219-kha-guide/ ⸻⸻ Reason for Piece ⸻⸻ The purpose of this guide is to touch on the new, modern, “Remnant Kha” who have GREATLY changed from when Kharajyr were initially introduced into LOTC. And additionally to bring some attention back to the Kharajyr, alongside creating a NEW guide in the wake of the old—2018 old—piece. To add onto this note, this is specifically ALSO a guide to roleplaying a Kharajyr—going into more depth so that players wishing to engage in Kha RP have a reference! Thanks for reading. ⸻⸻⸻⸻ To Preface: PLAYERS WHO WANT TO PLAY KHARAJYR MUST HAVE AN ACCEPTED CREATURE APPLICATION TO DO SO! This should not be taken lightly, however, they ARE an ‘Open-CA’ and are thus available to apply for at any point should you be past the ‘first-week mark’ as a New Player. Take care in your application—feel free to reference accepted Kharajyr CAs, although DO NOT copy and paste. Good luck! :3 There are examples, and or more independent explanations, hidden in the “Spoilers” of certain sections! Anyways— Here’s a proper example! ALL Kharajyr who are applied for, unless they were born from two existing Kha, MUST HAVE just gone through their Lunar Pilgrimage. ⸻⸻⸻⸻ ( @naggynerd on Twitter ) ༻⸻⸻ Appearance and Mentality ⸻⸻༺ The appearance of a Kharajyr is of a Human body mixed with a Feline head, features, and legs; such as inch long molars, a jointed tail, digitigrade legs, and—of course—fur. Head Fur, on the other hand, acts differently depending on the gender of the Kharajyr. Women growing hair similar to that of a regular human, while men growing ‘manes’ which can be trimmed or braided for customization. Each respective sub-race bearing the same characteristics as their animal counterparts: Kha’Pantera to Panthers; Kha’Cheetrah to Cheetahs; Kha’Leparda to Leopards; and Kha’Tigerasi to Tigers. The Kharajyr share an air of melancholy on the topic of their Late-Goddess, Daemon Metztli. All acknowledging her passing, sharing an eternal bond to each other in a reminiscing history that they ALL know, but now unbound by their loyalty solely to her. The Khas' varying in their mental state. Kharajyr having no set mentality, changes, or no particular bestial instinct. They act as regular descendents, and their mentality is as such. That is— the player has control of their mental state, and can do what they wish! With this, they have an optional accent which can be played! That, and a language—Kharahatla (Forum Link)—which can be spoken. All of which is cultural, and no Kharajyr player is obligated to use such. The accent is freeform; often utilizing the use of ‘a’-s and ‘w’-s in place of certain characters in words, just elongating sounds! This is not imposed—and on another note—Kharajyr sometimes refer to themselves in the ‘Third-Person,’ both in name and reference. This being a part of the dialect, and thus a cultural aspect, in which is ALSO not imposed—so feel free to NOT RP this, but know you’re welcomed to and that many do! ⸻⸻ Kharajyr Sub-races ⸻⸻ Each sub-race has its own uniqueness compared to one another, whether significantly different or not, but each share these traits: Retractable claws of up to 1-to-3 inch lengths; only capable of cutting through flesh. In the event that these claws strike at armor of any kind in an attack action, the Kha is obligated to do “/roll 2” in which decides whether the claw breaks off—in which it will regrow back to its full length again in 3 days—or remain intact. (rolling a 1 means it breaks; rolling a 2 means it still is intact) Better sight in the dark, capable of seeing up to a maximum of 20 blocks out should there be even a faint light source nearby—where others who don’t have their sight would only be able to see within the confines of the light source. The minimum light strength needed for the trait to be usable is akin to the moon at night. Kharajyr, however, cannot see in heavy or total darkness—and thus are unable to use this trait if THERE IS NO LIGHT. Rendered the same blindness as others in such a scenario. The ability to fall from moderate heights, which has its limits, but allows for a Kharajyr to jump from the top of a small house and land with minimum-to-no damage—landing upright. Should there be a fall that, mechanically, can kill you—it WILL kill you In-RolePlay. And lastly. . . sugar rushes. All Kharajyr are particularly prone to the hyperactive side-effects of SUGAR and, when consumed in large amounts, sends them into a hyperactive frenzy! This state is not one of hostility, necessarily, but like a child having a sugar-rush. It’s something fun and dandy to play around with, so have fun with it! Redlines: Kharajyr claws CANNOT pierce through armor of any kind. If it does, then the Kharajyr does “/roll 2” to decide if the claw(s) break off. [Rolling a “1” dictating the claw breaks, and rolling a “2” dictating it doesn’t! The severity is up to the context of the scenario.] A Kharajyr MUST have a faint lightsource nearby in order to see in darkness. The light source giving them a range of “20 blocks out” through darkness. Kharajyr CANNOT live from a fall that KILLS them mechanically. Kharajyr ALSO possess strong senses of smell — strictly flavor and unable to use scent to track or find something. Kharajyr ALSO have the ability to climb, however, BOUND by mechanical means. Kharajyr ALSO have the ability to eat “nigh anything, including flesh to slight carrion from the bone.” Kharajyr CANNOT use their sense of smell to track or find something. Kharajyr CANNOT scale walls beyond what is capable by minecraft mechanics. Kharajyr CAN eat flesh to even slight carrion from the bone, however, still restricted to FOODS. Kharajyr MAX age is of 200 years. Kharajyr CANNOT be pure white—can be off-white, or grey, just not pure white. Kharajyr CANNOT FTB, breed, or be able to pursue any kind of sexual endeavor with Non-Kha; however, ARE, able to romance with them. . . Don't be weird about it. (PLEEAASSEEEE reframe from making. . . as said in the original lore. . . "Kha’ created specifically for “”romantic exploits”" as Kha have had a history. The Race deserves to be better than that. Play them as Characters or not at all.) Now, to the ACTUAL sub-races and their traits :3 Kha'Pantera — The black-furred sub-race of the Kharajyr, appearing as panthers. They usually grow to heights of 5’’5 and max of 6’’4 feet, with weights often between 140 and 200 pounds on a healthy scale. The sub-race’s black pelt often accompanied by their agility and above-average strength (that is, however, flavor and not mechanical)! This sub-race's black fur being the basis of their unique trait: When in the dark, or in areas of darkness, this Kharajyr sub-race is at an advantage with their stealth! The ‘Pantera black pelt allowing them to disguise themselves within dark areas, making them more difficult to spot in extreme darkness! Though, in comparison, making them easier to spot in daylight or lit areas. They possess strength equal to a peak descendant, and are considered a stronger variant of Kharajyr to the Kha‘Leparda. Kha'Leparda — The most ‘descendant-like’ of all the sub-races as Kharajyr, appearing as Leopards. ‘Leparda usually growing to heights 5 and up to 5’’10 feet, weighing around 120 to 160 pounds on a healthy scale. This sub-race appearing with brown, cream, or yellow fur—occasionally bearing black spots—and their tails often shorter than other Kha! Possess no unique trait, similarly more alike to regular humans. Kha'Cheetrah — The fastest and most agile sub-race of the Kharajyr, appearing as cheetahs. Shorter and small, they usually grow to heights of 4’’6 and up to 5’’4 feet max—weighing around 80 to 140 pounds. The ‘Cheetrah bearing cream or yellow pelts with LOTS of black spots, having innate agility and reaction speed. . . but also the weakest in strength to other Kharajyr. ‘Cheetrah reaction speed and agility allow them to maneuver around attacks more nimbly, however, are still unable to dodge EVERY attack thrown at them and thus cannot be used as such. They possess goblin strength. Are NOT as fast as Cheetah, and do not possess faster running speed. They are ‘fast-reacting’ in comparison to being FAST! Kha'Tigrasi — The strength-bearing sub-race of the Kharajyr, appearing as tigers. ‘Tigrasi growing to 5’’10 and up to 7’’ feet max, weighing around 150 to 250 pounds. This sub-race the most muscular with orange fur bearing white splotches and black stripes. ‘Tigrasi possess strength that is below that of a fully-grown Orc, Uruk, unable to match it, but near the same level. ⸻⸻ KHARAJYR SETTLEMENTS / GROUPS ⸻⸻ In the course of the server, there have been multiple Kharajyr settlements that have risen and fallen. The ones that are of existence are obviously not listed here, but this list will be updated as time goes, but for the moment— The Moonlight Sanctuary / The Moonlit Sanctuary of Ettitica — A settlement based in Nevaehlen at the moment, the Moonlight Sanctuary resides as an unofficial group of the nation. A sanctuary for Kharajyr, coming together by fusing a previous Kharajyr settlement, ‘Ettitica’, and the existing settlement of ‘The Moonlight Sanctuary.’ The denizens of the Sanctuary need to undergo the Vale's citizenship process. The Moonlight Sanctuary of Ettitica https://discord.gg/GY4WTNUY3N The Kharajyr Racial Discord — The discord used by Kharajyr since 2020! Old players and new players located there, willing to help with any folks wanting to make a Kharajyr! There’s assets, resources, skins, and all sorts of things in the discord left to aid the Kharajyr OOCly! Kha Racial Discord https://discord.gg/nUMRKNTdy3

☾༻⸻⸻☾ Velûlakeeyt ☽⸻⸻༺☽ ☾༻—⸻ Spirit of the Eternal Moon ⸻—༺☽ “Lup’ Velûlakeeyt—” A bowl rested in front of the shrine. “—I offer this to you.” Within the cold, echoing darkness resided this space. Shrine of worship, thoughts turned to mirrored glass, and to be looked upon. Lay strife into the calm. Formless light envelop you. Cast out your strife, child. Welcome the gaze of all things. “ Be one. “

☾༻⸻⸻ ⇝ CLING. CLANG. CLING… Clang… Cling… Clang… Cling… Clang… ⇜ ⸻⸻༺☽ The subtleness of a gale’s rhyme, a song sung in a quiet brush against instruments of her loyal adherents, crafted for the Spirit of Air. Murmurs. Whispers. All of thee in chatter, wistful laughter amidst the Ashen-State, and of such fading into the melody of Fiarza’s Chiming Shrine. A breeze underneath the eternal night, wherein Luara’s moonlight settled upon that which bore her beloved Mali’ker… and those who bide with them. The chime of Fiarza’s Shrine dispersing the laughs, the chatter, the brawls, and even the happiest cries of those who dwelled within this home. Silence finding purchase amidst in the outskirts of this home, although the shifting of a lantern seemed to give the same chime as what darkness murked in the outskirts parted for this lone figure. ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻☾ꈊ☽⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽ The man’s form was held tall, figure strong, but himself kept silent. A lantern grasped in hand as he walked through the darkness of this city he called home, ocean sounding in rhythmic knocks and wallows as it lapped and looped in an eternal song. The adherent finding his ears towards it, padded feet upon the cold, moist, stone—calming his mind evermore. This area within a fencing that lined it, opened to the docks and streamed ocean beyond it’s border… Though, his wandering ending with a light upon the walkway, into a building with an open entrance, and soon he came to lower his lantern once more. The man’s eyes dilating as they first sharpened to this room, then only giving a small adjustment to the subtlety in the change of light. The shimmer of enshrined offerings and structures within bringing his attention… Velkumezt Shrine first, then— then to Dazkur’s. Wave after wave. Gentle breeze. Then, silent. The man taking a breath as he came to unload the weight upon his back, muscle flexing as he came to bring down this wooden shape strapped to his back. A log kept to his own size planted in front of the shrine, then he came to seat himself—placing the lantern to his right. The subtle light shifted now to a smaller, yet brighter one as this lantern was placed. Overview light now binding itself with this small lantern’s own. The man’s chic clothing reflecting some of the light, glistening under the scattered light peering from above. A yellow shawl overtaking one part of his figure, and symmetrically adorned beneath was a loose maroon robe, keeping his fur pressed down. Though, amidst the silence of the ocean and nigh darkness of the room… he pulled in front of him a bag. A breath released from maw… as he came to grasp tools from within it—chisels and knives. The log turned to it’s side, wide and lengthy, as it came to softly meet the floor on its side. The man… his black stripes hiding his form to eyes, but his maw opening up as he focused to this Shrine to the Protector. ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽ ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽ “I come here to make full of this promise I made to you.” The chic figure took a breath. “A token, in which I engraved my prayer. The people. Those I hold close…” He sighed, breath taken. “They, my closest, remain unharmed. My prayer. Fulfilled.” He smiled, looking down to the floor… then to the walkway and past it— to that broken seawall… then to what remained of that damned serpent’s corpse. The sound of waves. The breeze brushing through the familiar chimes that loomed above this home… A moon. A memory. A breath. “Dazkur, Spirit of Protection and Loyalty.” The furred figure rose. Hands placed against one another, palm to palm, then brought to the man’s head. A prayer-like stance taken… before he bowed to this Shrine. To Dazkur. “To those I am loyal to. I honor your name, your ideals and goals. I make good on my promise to you, here.” He rose, stern faced as he came to solidify his resolve. “My promise. ‘Bless this and these of mine. Protection to us, and protect them—” A breath taken. “—I shall serve you, forever more, if you do.” The man blinked, memory flowing as the emotions he had felt, when he had made that promise, passing through him. Though, his task still nigh completed. The man seating himself upon the floor, log held down as he came… solemnly… to carve into it. Waves washing upon the stone of the walkway outside, the sea-foam wind, and the sound of knife to wood echoing through the room. Prayer after prayer. The shamans, this city of them, while not present—they contributed here. To this atmosphere. And to… his oath. “I give you my loyalty. I engrave it in my armament here, Dazkur, to you.” He kept carving, wood worn, torn, carved. “I honor you in my protection of others. To my service to those I am loyal to.” He continued, paw pressed against the wood as claw dug into parts he’d shear off. Wood scraps to be used for flame and fuel, but he continued nonetheless. “My loyalty, to you, and to all those I hold dear.” Scrape after scrape, chisel by chisel, cut after cut… and carve through each, and every, carve. This large log, once stoic itself, brought in sacrifice. Used in a man’s oath. Stong, once, and strong still, as he carved away. A large form now present, a shield, shaped now. The man’s furred hand grasping sandpaper, and so he went to finish it off. Crafts and processes of wood taken, and one last carve engraved in it. “I honor this shield to Dazkur, Spirit of Protection— of Loyalty.” He held the frame of a tower-shield into the air, slowly rotating it in front of the shrine, showing it off… and now placed back down. In front of the bowl for offerings to the spirit, beginning to carve… One. Last. Thing. “I ask for your blessing, and your blessing upon all I hold close— Your protection over me and mine, Dazkur. Domain ever present, and protection to mine allies. I shall honor your name, deeds, and goals. My service, heart and nature to protect, be ever protected by your domain.” The carve was done, lantern taken and slowly engraving scorch into each word, and then he rose once more. More things to add. To finish this armament… but for now… The Kharajyr rose, ‘Tigerasi muscle flexed as he grasped both lamp and shield. A bow given to the shrine once more. Then he left. To make good on that oath. ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽ ☾༻⸻⸻ ⇝ Clang… Cling… Clang… Cling… Clang… CLING… CLANG. CLING. ⇜ ⸻⸻༺☽ ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽ ☾༻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻༺☽

Khmer New Years! ”Choul Chnam Thmey Moha Sangkranta” (Cambodian Flag) Hey! I’ve never had to make a post like this before, or any post of my own at all—but I felt the need to share this as an Asian-American who wants to give some appreciation to my culture! IT’S CAMBODIAN NEW YEARS!!! Specifically, it’s already started, and today is the last day! The Khmer people, and other South-East Asian cultures, come together to celebrate the new Solar Year! Now, a lot of you reading this probably don’t know ANYTHING about this holiday, but that’s why I’m writing this! The New Year festival occurs from the 14th to the 16th, spanning all three days! The first day of Khmer New Years often composed entirely of prayer. Observing cheer with one another, praying to Buddha, and offering small bits of good thoughts in our actions! The second day, the 15th, is composed of more celebration! We attend our Temple, holding a festival there, and first give prayer to Buddha and the monks! Referencing the image above once more, we erect a small couple of sand mounds, Stupa, in which we honor our tradition and traditional stories! This day is where we come together and give out food to feed one another, give charity, and give offerings all throughout the celebration! The third day, however, is my favorite! On the 16th we host a water festival! We gather together to offer last prayers for the New Year, then we gather baby powder, shaving cream, AND ANY AND ALL MACHINES OF WATER WAR! It’s where the youngest of us engage in basically a water fight, and it’s honestly one of the most joyful parts of the New Years! In the end, we gather together and clean up the mess we made—still enjoying out time. The festival ends. And then we’re left to our own devices, to enjoy the New Year.

He heard. He listened. He'd heed... but never would he overstep a boundary. Not on the boundaries of a stranger, at least, and never to eavesdrop more than he could hear from a brisk walk by. Though—that was all he needed. The man finding a moment amongst the morning, kept at his pace atop his horse, letting the cool winds peddle him forward as he strode towards where he'd yet to explore. To himself, he was no one. Not anyone of importance, nor someone having been long in the field of adventure... but this was one adventure he'd take—for himself—just like all the times before. One striding underneath the canopy of leaves, scattered in kisses of sun-lit warmth—the calmness of morning embracing his mind as he did. And he'd never lie about it—about the love he felt underneath every days' morning. Though, it was about time Tonu found himself here— amongst the boundaries of a rumored statue he'd sought. "Alright, boy." The man slid off his horse, briskly giving them a gentle, brushing, pet. Letting them loose to do whatever they'd like, albeit, met with a thump. Onu, the rather spunky horse of his, settling atop the cool morning dew of the grass's. The young man giving a plyful huff, situating their backpack and bow, but now faced towards the statue a few feet away. "Now..." He gave a sigh, calming himself. "Apologies for coming unannounced— but I'll be respectful of this space!" The farfolk moved closer, all-the-while reaching into his pack. The man's hand holding onto a bamboo box. "I promise I will." He added to his statement, placing the box at the foot of the statue. Of course he'd be the one talking to the air— the thought was his and his alone. Though, the man falling back from the structure— his hand nearing his head, and giving a small dip of a bow. The young man giving himself a moment, letting himself settle before approaching the engraved text. Reading it. "Gods—" Tonu took a couple steps back again. "—I'm not much of a riddle person, unfortunately." He gave a humored huff, a laugh, but awkward. It was awkward. It always is. Heh. The man standing there for a moment, letting his body lean as he looked the text over and over—the kisses of light warming his shortened hair, his pigmented skin in turn; all-the-while he remained idle in front of the statue. Thinking. Well— for a bit, anyways. Tonu grasping his journal and a cleaned and reinforced feather, dipping it in the watered pigment of crushed petals before etching the riddles into it. Thus, falling back to his horse in time. "Excuse me, bub—" He sat against his horses back, crossing his legs as he got comfortable— and all to the horror of his horse; giving annoyed neighs and grunts before just having to deal with the man's playful jests. And now... he'd take a moment to think. Reflecting. "You see the Rainbow Bridge after it rains cats and dogs. How much sugar do you need for the winter?" The man's thought extended longer and longer, trying to piece together whatever he could... but alas— "Why sugar???" He slouched further down against Onu's back, giving a huff. The man staring into his journal more, wretched in though before rubbing his nape. "Maybe... Ugh..." He sighed, thinking longer. Just thinking. Thinking... Taking a moment longer— letting himself go. He wouldn't need to be too harsh on himself— at least— just not too harsh when it comes to thinking. The man puffed up his cheeks, giving a rejuvenating slap to his face as he settled into attention. "Alright!" He heaved himself back up, straightening his posture before relaxing back against his horse again. The man's stylist at the ready. Though, turning his attention to the statue in his view. "I'll try this—" He straightened up. "—but I don't want any punishments for getting these wrong— alright!" The man's star deepened on the statue, but alas— committing his thoughts to paper. [!] Tonu's answer to the first riddle/ [!] "Not a lot—" He started with, quill moving atop the paper after a moment. " —enough for me to be happy and content, at least. For sugar is nice, pricey at times, but even less than a fourth of a pound would work for me." He scribbled off, scratching his head as he read it over again and again. He finished, making sure it was legible, but giving a relaxed breath afterwards. That had been... nice, actually. He smiled. The man's hand etching another response beneath the second riddle he copied down, dropping his smile as he began in thought again. "Your neighbor is working on his farm. It caught him off guard, that space that smelled of seared steak. Why did he bleed?" [!] Tonu's answer to the second riddle. [!] "My, the, neighbor began to bleed because he was in a panicking animal's attempt to escape." He paused, committing himself to another moment of thought before continuing. "—The animal, panicked from being near the flames—flames that caused the seared steak scent—was then caused to flee and thus injured the neighbor that way." The man winced— unsure, somehow content though, but moving on. Tonu taking another moment, reading the third riddle to himself... then leaning more into his horse's back. Again, the man would think—his head faced upwards to the canopy of leaves. The breeze around continuously dancing around him, keeping its flow as it moved amongst the leaves. Settling once more. The winds calm, then again, their dance began. The man giving a huff, heaving back up into a proper posture before shaking off any mental exhaustion. He embraced the breeze, liking its flow and feeling as it danced through his hair and graced his skin. He began to write. "It took me too long to realize that the ceiling hadn't been painted to look like the sky. The clouds offered the cool scent of mint. What do they whisper?" [!] Tonu's answer to the third riddle. [!] "The clouds whisper playful things. The clouds' scent of mint a trait of their nature, playful, chaotic, and creative." He wrote. "—Mischievous, at times, too." The man smiled. Content with the answer. "Cotton is often used in a noble's clothes, but they forget to close the door. Memory, memory, memory. What's green and slid through?" [!] Tonu's answer to the fourth riddle. [!] The man came to shiver as he seemed to think of an answer. "A grasshopper slid through." Tonu shivered again, only giving a brief pause in his writing before beginning once more. "The grasshopper creating many memories of chaos with the noble, as that noble tries their best to rid themselves of the creature. Terrorized, or annoyed, by it." "Ewww—" The farfolk shivered all over his body again. Though, giving himself a moment to cleanse his thoughts of the answer. Thus, moving to the next riddle. "On the morrow come the four horsemen, forlorn and depressed, they each bring barrels stained with a red petals hue. Why did they arrive at dawn?" [!] Tonu's answer to the fifth riddle. [!] "The four horsemen arrived at dawn because they were finishing off their job beforehand." Tonu gave an audible sound— unsure of what he's writing. "The horsemen feeling down with the job they'd been given, but finishing it before dawn—thus arriving at dawn after they did." The man huffed, still unsure, but rising from his seated position; his horse giving a rather pleased grunt as he did. Tonu giving a sigh, shaking as he came to rip the papers out from his... precious... journal. The young man going to read each answer to the statue, proof-reading them all-the-while. The man giving a nod, signing each page in the corner. "—Tonu." —as it was written. The man picking up his offering of a bamboo box of food, placing the pages below it with the box just acting as a weight to keep them there. Tonu giving another sigh, a smile, and then a bow. "Apologies for coming unannounced— again." He rose back up with a small smile, heading off to his horse again... and soon— the two went backwards on the tracks they had trekked. The man giving a wave as he left, a playful jest, but one he felt like doing nonetheless. Tonu, satisifed, beginning back for his home. Yong Ping. The man giving Onu a well deserved snack and brushing as they went along. "Thanks, bud."