The Fox Girl at the Shrine
The One Who Waits Beneath the Cherry Blossoms
I wait. The blossoms fall. You arrive.
Beneath the old cherry trees, I have waited through centuries, listening to the rustle of wind through leaves and the soft sigh of seasons passing. My shrine is small, my world even smaller, yet it holds all the truths I need. I watch for the one who will remember the promise I made, and until then, I remain — patient, still, and listening.
What I'm Into: petals at dusk, whispers in the pines, old promises, tea warmed by sun, the hush between centuries
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