*schhhink*

The stone moved along the well oiled edge.

*schhhiink*

“Don’t.”

“How did you know?”

“Experience.”

Tomoee had already told her to not not sharpen it backwards, but she honestly couldn’t tell the difference. Also, she was being quiet again apparently. The flip floppy moods of this feel-male always never ceased to amaze her. “You need to stop being so flip floppy.” Might as well confront her about it now.

Her ally’s black hair swished a bit in the corner of her vision, signalling her looking in Isirith’s direction. When she didn’t say something, it was evident she wanted clarification. At least Isirith was improving in understanding what Tomoee wants. She actually happened to be pretty expressive with her visual cues.

“You talked so much before, now you’re quiet again.”

Tomoee just sighed, turned, and looked back at her sword, being sharpened just as Isirith was sharpening stabby.

“I learned.”

Her face scrunched up, what was that supposed to mean?

Peering at the person next to them, they rolled their eyes, and, without taking even a glimpse at her, smacked Isirith with the flat of the blade. “The language.”

...Oh. She did say something like that, didn’t she?

Aaaaand now there was an awkward silence. One that she caused.

…

Yep, this is Awkwar-

“Yip!”

“No!”

The pup kept trying to reach for the pokey stick while she worked on it. Gnawing on it would damage the pole, and even though the furry critters are quite cute, she couldn’t betray her best friend. Yes, her best friend…

Stabby, obviously.

Making a noise of content at finishing one side of the blade, she decided to show off to Tomoee. Of course, Tomoee already finished polishing both her weapons and started harvesting the skin and fur of the big wolf she killed. Glancing at her weapon, then at Tomoee, then the swords sharpened to far better condition than hers, she instead opted to stay quiet.

“Good.”

Isirith’s eyes became downcast. She tried to sharpen her weapon and it couldn’t even compare to the job that Tomoee did, to the point where even Tomoee commented on it. About how good it was that Isirith realized it wasn’t even worth sharing.

“Job, I mean.”

...Oh.

BUT OF COURSE SHE DID GOOD! She’s amazing! Wonderful, stupendous. No one can simply compare to her natural brilliance! No edge is too dull for her to fix. She must be the best of all her sisters, no, perhaps in all the caves!

Isirith couldn’t help but smile cheekily. There is simply no comparison to her abilities.

And, just like that, she happened to forget all about how Tomoee was currently also an occupant of the mountain.

…

Thread out, thread in, thread out, thread in. Sometimes the needle would get jammed or stuck, and it took a bit of force to press it through. Soon after the head breached the sliced hide, the process would repeat.

The rock hard skin kept its properties even after the death of the owner. The fur, used in her current work, far exceeded any other material she could use to stitch it together.

Tomoe didn’t mind the peace and quiet of the situation. In fact, she found herself quite appreciative of it. The tranquility created by the fire’s crackling, the rise and drop of breathing, even the grunts of Isirith’s ‘hard efforts’ added in, provided a sense of calm, white noise. She didn’t think quite so much force was needed in maintenance, but as long as it wasn’t damaging it, the extra elbow grease was fine.

So far she had cut and stitched a large patch of leather, big enough for a chestpiece. It was obviously not finished, but things took time, and it was time she currently wanted to use for something else.

Tomoe stood up, using Watatsumi to help her in the task. She needed it as a prop for standing, but mayhaps tomorrow she could do it herself. Breathing was difficult, but difficult simply didn’t equate to her.

No one gave mind when she left the shallow alcove, and she passed into the grove of stone once more. Barely seeing in the total darkness didn’t mean she couldn’t move, just that she had to remember the layout of the room. Which she did.

The mends of her clothes fluttered, a smooth draft breaching the sanctuary of the cave. The chill was hardy, and yet refreshing.

*tap*

The systematic rambles of the sheath moved along with her. Every step, another sound. The small whistle of her bruised throat from her exhale bounced about the cavern. The large room turned into a small tunnel, and eventually the sight of snow greeted her eyes.

*.*

It made no sound this time, her feet landing in a pile of powder. Her robe drifted about, the winds carrying them with a frozen embrace. Steam puffed from her lips.

Tomoe’s eyes gazed to the sky she could no longer see.

They closed.

It kissed her cheeks, the cold.

“...”

She stuck the katana in the ground, her free hand put out into the storm.

Calm. Not quite the word for it. Numbness, perhaps.

Her neck twisted around, to the top of the entrance, the place where the snow wolves laid previously. An apt location, she supposed.

The silk about her rippled as her steady ascent began. Her flesh was red, but her eyes were still. Tomoe’s figure, even when injured, imposed undefiable might; her posture was perfect even in terrible injury.

The crunch under her feet subsided as the weather superseded it. Long and steady, the uphill march went. She found balance even without her weapon, still held up by the snow at the entrance.

A chunk had a flat area, no slope, no dropoff.

As soon as Tomoe arrived, she sat.

It was not meditation, it was simply kneeling. Her forearms came over her thighs. It gave off a sense of formality, and she couldn’t tell if she liked it or not. It would do for now.

Her eyes didn’t open, her lungs didn’t move, it was all at rest.

It is strange, she thought. People’s minds that is. Too many thoughts and it becomes disorienting, and yet none and it feels off. There always was just that certain level of rightness. Even in deep meditation one wouldn’t think of absolutely nothing. Once a mind is flipped on at birth, it never turns off. Its constant activity will forever travel with a person.

…

Some things for the mind are easier to do with pictures.

As long as you can imagine something that relates to what you are doing, a good comparison, it makes doing that thing much easier. For clearing her mind, Tomoe sculpted a hole. All the thoughts would drain down the pit, until a gray space remained.

Then, her eyes opened.

The world ran amuck with color and sound.

A gentle rustling of the trees was drowned out by the deafening waterfall, landing in a pool that did not even reach her height, the bottom crafted with a bed of polished stones. It was dispersed with small streams that flowed down the hill all in front of the cliff face. Soft grass and the strange subtle intensity the sun always had.

Scuttling, rustling, chirping, flapping, breathing, the world she was in was alive, and she could feel herself at the center of it all. Her own little garden within the woods.

Her body, without the armor, sat upon the small beach of smooth rock. It was one without scars or broken bones. A completely healed body, one she couldn’t remember having.

With a move of her left hand the noise of the water dipped along with the motion. It seemed far off, allowing it to meld together with everything else.

The place debuted a clean, unbridled area of wilderness, with only a few signs of human habitation, the biggest one being a small one room japanese lodge that looked as if it hadn’t been inhabited for some time. Moss and plant life blanketed the wood, and the door was slightly ajar.

Other than that, a weapon rack was beside her, along with trees a dozen or so meters away marked with scratches and piercings in the bark. Though the makings of the rack were worn and torn, the bow and other assortments were in pristine condition, save it be for a single stick of metal. One side was enlarged as would a club would be, spikes dotting the business end while a small loop was at the bottom of the handle end.

Tomoe sat there for a while while simply relaxing and breathing. Sometimes the transition was jarring and this was indeed one such example.

Once she had vanquished any queasiness she stood up on her rough footing in the water. The tumbled stones pinched a bit since she had no shoes on but not to the point of pain. It was more of the awkward feeling of standing on an uneven surface than anything.

She continued to walk once past the small beach of rocks and into the grass, which was littered with a more than disgruntled path that you would see in the gardens of people’s backyards, complemented by flowers of many hues and varieties. It felt almost… not whole, one could say, such as some plants or trees missing, maybe a pet scurrying about. And yet, the mildly unsettling offness of it only added onto the layers of finish for the patch of land.

The stones sunk slightly as she stepped on them, and rose back up once she got off. Her pace wasn’t hurried, though she never had a slow pace to begin with.

It took a bit of effort to open up the door more, tearing off vines and vegetation keeping it in place. As if it had a life of its own, the plants seemed to recoil and shudder at the loud snapping as some of it tore.

Stepping in, the inside looked no better than the outside, yet still retained the function that a home should have, being that it was entirely closed off save for a door that allowed some light and ventilation to come through the holes that had been gained with time’s passing.

It was bright enough for it not to be dim, yet Tomoe decided more light would be preferable. Going to one of the only pieces of intact furniture, she looked at the andon lamp and grabbed a packet of matches at the side.

*strick*

She frowned.

*strick*

*strick*

*strickstrickstrickstrickstrickstrick*

She sighed in acceptance. This would be what she could get, she supposed.

A few steps places her in the center of the room, where she sat, cross-legged, the floorboards sagging a bit at her weight. Her eyes closed again, taking in her home away from home, one of the only things about her that didn’t change. A world fabricated from the mind.

It was time for a review.

The fight played out from behind her shut eyelids, the steps taken, pressure of her blade, the acuity of their actions, the dexterity of each movement.

It was obvious, Tomoee had grown slow.

Not from lack of training or skill, but the change in the placement of weight, the influx of power in certain parts of the body but the loss in others, even the mentality of not being the same placed upon them unconsciously weakened them. It was recoverable, but it would take time.

Time Tomoee had, but unfortunately couldn’t use due to injuries.

Training in this place was not training in the real world. Their imagery was not vivid enough to equate muscle memory from here to the outside. This was a place of recovery and understanding, if anything.

She wasn’t perfect before adopting this body, the wear and tear of time not allowing significant progress with swordsmanship past her previous golden years. With their new found youth though… it was possible to improve further.

I’m getting ahead of myself, my thoughts are everywhere.

Picking up the matches again, Tomoee went through each and every one before arriving at the last. It struck hard against the box before lighting with a small flame. Gently, it was touched against the lamp, and the bowl of incense next to it, before being blown out.

Slowly and surely, she let herself onto her back. The floorboards, while soft and a bit weak, handled her weight easily enough as the aroma of aloeswood filled the area.

For now, it was time to recover, and rest.

…

The snow greeted Tomoe.

Her nerves tingled at the sensation of warm flesh meeting biting cold.

For a few moments, her body refused to move, perfectly happy with where she was, but after a bit of a mental push it moved. Like an old dog that needed coaxing.

At least, she was going to, but a heavy weight on her back prevented her.

Her head swivelled as she looked at whatever it was.

“...”

At most, it could be called a large rag.

A poorly made cut of leather with rough edges and poorly cleaned. Hairs stuck out from everywhere, and there were holes poked through here and there. The way it was cut made it extremely uneven, and Tomoe couldn’t even tell at first what it exactly was.

It could only be called shoddy.

“...”

Tomoe wrapped it further around her, and sunk into it.