A return to the loving forest

The dawn presented Kitsu with soft colors as he once more ventured into the embrace of the forest. By now, the lines between the seen world and the unseen one known as the essence of the forest had been irreversibly blurred. This sacred place had become profound for him beyond the simple need to prove his skeptical mind wrong and explore dimensions of existence beyond his disbelief. Every step he took seemed to echo the understanding of the multifaceted world he inhabited, and every whisper that echoed through the trees appeared to guide him in the right direction gently. 

His recent exploits in the quest for self-discovery and compliance with the ancient ways of the village had given more meaning to his walks, as he no longer suspected the forest's spirits but instead felt like an emissary or a protector. As he sought to communicate with the essence of the forest, he did not fear that he would not be heard, as the essence spoke with a thousand voices in the rustle of the leaves, bird songs, and the foreboding sound of the wind. Finally, Kitsu arrived at a clearing suffused with the warm morning light and took a meditative stance, letting his mind expand into the possible dimensions of existence. He did not try to call or command but just opened himself up as a bridge between the material world and the unseen one.

The air around him seemed to hum with a quiet strength, a vibration that hummed in his bones and sang to the very core of his being. It was like he was more aware and more present at this moment. The spirits didn't speak to him or have shape or sound. Instead, they were part of the forest, intertwined with branches, leaves, and roots in a picture that flowed and danced without intent. It was like knowing without thinking, like understanding on a softened breeze. With every breath of that silent conversation, Kitsu felt peace and belonging. The forest was a cycle, constantly growing, always decomposing as it rebuilt the past into new forms. The spirits, whether ancient apparitions or nature's more profound mysteries, showed him a glimpse of the wonder of life, the strength one needed to walk such a path, and the reality of balance and peace. 

As the day came of age, Kitsu stepped out of the conversation feeling healed. He was still the same boy but different than he was that morning. His walk back to the village was quiet, the steps slowly falling on the ground, telling of a more extensive trip than the miles behind him. The forest was no longer peace and escape but strength and wisdom. Understanding wasn't reaching a clear outcome but accepting the mystery with a view untested by knowledge. As he crossed the river back into the village, Kitsu felt the soft breezes of the forest on his face, the whispers of a hundred spirits matching him by way of the world. The spirits were the force, and he was walking with them.

In this quiet embrace, Kitsu's attention turned to an unexpected visitor meandering slowly through the woods. An older man, hunched but alert, moved through the woods with the measure of slow care that only experience could turn into purpose as Kitsu approached. Intrigued by the notion that someone else may be in the forest in such early hours, moving as quietly as Kitsu, he came with a silent grace, quiet as the morning mist. Upon seeing Kitsu, the older man stopped and turned, giving an attentive gaze that sparkled with worldly wisdom and the curiosity of the woods. Kitsu only nodded his head, understanding the quiet sign of solitude that the forest gave those who wandered deep into its embrace; the older man, for his part, only smiled and explained that he was searching for something. 

He explained that this was no average search through the underbrush; he was looking for herbs with unique properties that could heal more than just the body. The forest, he explained, kept the secret lyrical promise of the earth, where these unique herbs grew hidden under simple leaves, tended by morning dew and guarded fiercely by craggy trunks that kept them in the shade. The forest, in other words, kept its treasures in plain sight but accessible only to those who knew the language of the woods. Touched by the man's quest and their shared connection to the forest and its many secrets, Kitsu offered his help, and so they began to search.

Yet, as they searched, Kitsu also looked at the forest through new eyes. The older man's words painted everything in a new light, conjuring hidden marvels from what he had considered routine. Here, a cluster of leaves sparkled with an otherworldly sheen; there, a vine that bloomed the deepest, most beautiful blue. The forest itself, alive with the whispers of the breeze and the rustles of its creatures, seemed to be leading them on a path, showing them the way to the herbs the older man required. When they found a patch of a particular herb, the older man would pause and thank the forest aloud. Out of respect for the healer and the great, living body of the forest itself, Kitsu would also bow his head. 

The collection of the ones the older man spoke of was not a mere taking—they were thanked for their sacrifice. They were a part of the cycle, a part of the world's balance, and the healer acknowledged that with a blessing. The lesson continued throughout their journey. Indeed, Kitsu, the boy hunter, began to see the nature of the forest and the rare herbs in a new light, and he saw that the message was clear. He learned that each leaf, root, and bloom had a story, all as vital as the men and women around him. As the sun rose high and descended, it became clear that he was drawing to the end of his path. With the last rare herb bagged and bundled in his arms, the older man paused on his walk back to the village and turned to thank Kitsu again.

The older man and the search for special herbs further deepened Kitsu's bond with the forest. The young man enhanced his perception of the fragile dance between humankind and the rest of nature. The forest was a place of seclusion, shelter, healing, and enlightenment. It was a sanctuary where the universal medium of life blurred the line between the tangible and the ethereal. 

Refreshed and inspired by his encounter with the older man's knowledge and the quest for the particular herb, Kitsu continued exploring the forest's deepest parts with a new sense of purpose and curiosity. The older man's lesson a new understanding of the woodland and the untold story of every plant, every bush, and every herb the forest, or at least certain herbs within it, might seem to come to life as a living testament to the wisdom and healing power of time. He cautiously started to forage for herbs, remembering the old shared lesson and the intuitive and consideration-based connection to the forest that began to develop. Moving his way through the underbrush, he gradually deciphered the silent, nearly invisible signs that indicated the presence of one of his searched-for plants. 

The light and shade between the canopy, the moisture in the soil, and the language of leaves were all signs to him, eerie portents revealing the hidden treasures of the forest floor. Kitsu's hands were as silent as the rest of the forest, talking to the trees and plants as he identified the healing, protective, and spiritual herbs he had learned from the older man. The potions he was about to make could heal physical wounds, soothe mental pains, and offer divine and spiritual protection or guidance for the mentor and the subject. He saw the radiant Yarrow leaves, capable of staunching bleeding and healing physical wounds, and found fields of Mugwort, the smelling leaves that acted as a bridge to otherworldly dreams and journeys. Chamomile's tender, sleep-inducing petals and the roots of Valerian, Divine herb, a sleepwort, calmed sleeplessness.

And so, as he foraged among the undergrowth, Kitsu also discovered herbs whose names were less known to him and whose properties remained as yet un-yet to be unraveled in the skein of tradition, and with a sense of anticipation that made his claws tingle, he gathered them in his bag, to be researched and integrated into his growing knowledge of the lore of herbs. But the forest's boundless generosity was not just in the herbs themselves, and Kitsu moved through the woodland with gratitude and wonder. Foraging became more than a search for herbs; it was a descent into the heart of the forest's secrets, deepening the bond between man and nature. When he had gathered everything he could safely take, Kitsu returned to the village; the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon now, and the trees cast long shadows through the twilight—the day provided a rich harvest of leaves and roots that were medicinal and spiritual in use. 

Still, it had also offered Kitsu much more – an insight into the forest and the grateful realization that he was a part of its intricate web of life. In the following days, Kitsu familiarized himself with the herbs he had gathered, discovering their properties and how to use them to bring healing and protection. He shared this knowledge with his villages, dispatching the herbs as compensation for new lives and ensuring safety. No longer were the herbs hidden in the vastness of the forest; they were bridges between his village and the woodland, physical manifestations of the unison between humanity and nature. Through his continued exploration, Kitsu became the protector of his town and the guardian of the ancient secrets that lived in the forest. Thus, I slept in a secure shelter forever: that shadow of trees.

After hours and hours spent embracing the forest, foraging for herbs, and deepening his connection with the natural world's mysteries, Kitsu felt a subtle but welcome shift inside. Even though he loved the solitude of the woods like no other, and it often felt like home to him, something was calling him that was no less natural – his place in the village and the civilization. With the bounty of the forest in his hands and his heart wide open to the blending of his feet tramping on the solitary path of the forest with the threads of human civilization he carried within him, Kitsu made his slow way back to the village. The light of the evening was soft and warm, painting the sky orange and pink. As he entered the perimeters of the civilization, Kitsu's green eyes took in familiar sights and sounds. 

The contrast with the forest's peace felt overly sharp, but it only reminded the herbalist of the diverse weave he called his life. The wink of his neighbors' windows, the sounds of pots and pans clanging together as dinner was prepared, the smell of cooking fires, and the faint laughter of children were the village's offerings. People went about their routines, some nodding to Kitsu with the respect he felt in his heart. His return was usual enough, yet he always waited with a mixture of curiosity and recognition. The villagers knew Kitsu. They knew his silent ways and calm, wise conduct. They knew the forest herb-gatherer and healer and respected him for it. However, today, Kitsu also bore gifts.

And so he went to the village healer, a wise woman known for her deep knowledge of herbal remedies and natural medicine. He presented the herbs to her, sharing the knowledge he had gleaned from the older man he met in the forest and from his observations. The healer, her eyes reflecting gratitude and admiration, accepted the herbs, recognizing the potential to heal many of those within the village. It was more than just a transaction of goods; it was a symbol of the connection between Kitsu and the town, the allowance of the young man to be the bridge between the wildness of the forest and the communal heart of civilization. 

He was thanked warmly for his contribution; knowing that the herbs would be used to heal and protect added a layer of fulfillment to his quest. Before his return to the forest, Kitsu wandered through the village, observing the life around him. The villagers' simple joys, struggles, interactions, and daily doings glimpsed a more extensive web of human existence, one in which he was a thread even in his isolation. As the stars twinkled in the gathering night, Kitsu felt the pull of the forest, the need to return to the quiet and the mystery of the wild. But the small taste he had gotten of civilization, of the village, reminded him of the delicate balance that must be maintained—the balance of the solitary path and the joined journey.

And so, with a quiet heart and a sense of peace, Kitsu returned to the forest. Once more, the boundary between the wild and the civilized world was blurring, and the forest was placing itself ever so close to the village. His time among humans had been short, but its effect was still felt, an understanding that his life did not simply belong in different parts of the world; it existed in the blurry line in between, in both, and neither at the same time. The golden eyes turned back to the forest, and it embraced him. The feeling of warmth was drawing back towards the night, the sounds of the forest again offering him a familiar tune. Less alone with human society but still isolated, his connection to the woods was strong; his heart's home still awaited him.

WC: 2310
TWC: 2310
EXIT

Claims:
Completion of a C rank mission
+8k Ryo
+40 AP
Doubled with Beloved Presence

WC Claims:
+543 towards Arrow Shadow Clone Jutsu (Complete) (Previous Progress)
+1125 towards Singularity (Complete)
+642 towards Perfect Body (642/1125)