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The eyes of Momiji Inubashiri have the capacity to discern any intruder from as far as a thousand ri. Inubashiri's impressive vision is nothing less than an asset to the tengu village. Truly, she is the most vigilant, the most dutiful, the most capable of any guard in the white wolf tengu squadron.
And yet such eyes of Inubashiri search the lands devotedly not for potential intruders but for a specific individual. Her back is turned to the entrance of the mountain; her front faces the tengu village.
The air is calm, the sun is setting, and Momiji is frantically pacing back and forth at her guard post.
Many say patience is a virtue. Momiji thinks little of such verbiage. Patience is wonderful... if only she had some. How eagerly did she wait for the time to tick by so she could return to her quarters. Yet her desire did little to pass the time. And how slow it passes.
The village need not necessarily be guarded. Tengu are more than capable of defending themselves against any real threat. Even then, they could count on the shrine maiden. Village guarding is archaic. Still, tradition is tradition, no matter how unnecessary the tradition. Even if it means that Momiji cannot return to the comforts of her home at a reasonable time.
So Momiji waits, consciously counting every passing second with strained tension. She waits for the sun to wane, sinking into the depths of the horizon. She waits for the dusk to arrive with its cool breeze and along with it the sounds of the night. She waits for the next guard to take her post. She waits and waits until she can wait no more.
And lo, Her time is done.
Then with speed in likeness to Shameimaru, Momiji disappears from her wretched guard post and charges straight to her housing. She barrels through the door and slams it shut, deftly locking it with a flick of the wrist.
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