Anya stopped herself from grasping at her neck, her weakness already bared to this stranger. She swallowed down her anxieties and wobbled to her knees, respectful but only just submissive as she threw her curiosity to the wind. 

"You...knew him?" She tried hard not to allow her sudden excitement to bubble into her voice, her heart still recovering from her near death experience. Nevertheless, a shimmer of hope crossed her gaze as she looked to the other for answers. 

The woman scoffed, swirling around to walk towards the center of the room with a harsh expression. Anya restrained herself from searching too closely for the tip of a tail under the trail of robes. 

"Knew him? I loathe him," the kitsune hissed as she reached for the cushion's roped off treasure. Pinching the delicate pearl between her fingers, she rolled it into her palm and clutched it tightly, "he is the blood to which I am now bound, the devious snake that dared trick the trickster, a blessed demon who after binding me to rest like a helpless dame wandered off so I might collect dust with the rest of this decrepit shrine. And now, it seems he has cursed me to babysit his amateur daughter. Pray tell, does that suffice for 'knowing' your father?" Opening her hand, the pearl was now nowhere to be seen. 

Anya's interest piqued as she got to her feet, her words careful but still prodding as she questioned, "Bound to his blood?" She nearly asked about how the slight of hand was pulled, but held her tongue for the more pressing matter. 

"Yes, his blood! His family's blood. Your blood." The last statement was said with a heavy sigh, and Anya, who had started to approach, stopped in her tracks as something in her gut twinged. 

"Was he really capable of such rituals? I thought he was spiritual healer, a purifier. I've seen nothing in his books so complex or insidious as a demon pact…" Anya pondered, nothing in the room particularly screaming 'dark arts'. It was simple, perhaps a little cobwebbed, and, aside from the miniature warded display that had nested the kitsune's pearl, minimal. 

"Am I not a spirit?" the woman retorted,"do they not call guardians to your doorways and bind wisps to mere stones? You humans put such faith in your dichotomies…" She began to rummage in her sleeves, her previous fury for Anya's naivety now quelled into utter indifference. She almost seemed bored.

"I suppose that's a way to look at it… but the more wicked the spirit, the more wicked the means, no?" Anya asked openly, a question for a question. The last thing she expected was another piercing glare from those slit, golden eyes. They sent a chill down her spine as their owner spoke. 

"You've no idea how wicked I am." 

Abruptly, the gap between them was closed, and a sharp pain pierced Anya's skull. Yelping in pain, her hand grasped at the side of her head, eyes wide as she watched the demon twirl dark strands of her hair between clawed fingers. 

"I thought you couldn't hurt me!"

"With ill intent, no. This is was only necessary." In a slow gesture, she raised her fingers and plucked a single, delicate strand from her own scalp. Pinched in both hands, she twirled their hair together into a single string. 

"In the absence of your father, I cannot leave this shrine. However-" her hands moved without hesitation, wrapping the twine this way and that around her finger, then twisted into its own shape. Before Anya's eyes could follow, a perfect, balled knot had been formed in miniature.

"By your blood, I may follow you instead." 

Amber eyes studied Anya closely as she took the knot carefully into her hand. Her mind reached for the significance of this technique, but alas her inexperience left her clueless. Her next inquiry was spoken in caution. 

"Explain what you mean with ‘by my blood’. How much blood? Why would you want to follow me?" 

Once more, frustration twitched the corner of the woman's lip. 

"A drop is all you need. This is only a transfer. As for my own motives…" her gaze trailed a moment to the cushion where her pearl had rested, "I have no desire to stay here any longer." 

It was Anya's turn to examine the other's expression, the weight of this predicament years beyond her spiritual education. She had no idea of the potential consequences, nor did she have any foundation of trust for this stranger. This was a spiteful demon, afterall, and had it not been for her father's ritual she would have been eaten alive, by now! On the thought of the ritual, however, the demon could not do anything to explicitly cause harm to her. It would also mean she would have a bodyguard as she travelled… someone who knew the language and the land. A powerful companion with untold wit and explicit connections with her father when he was last seen…

Ears and brows perked in surprise as Anya nipped at the soft flesh of her bottom lip. Her chest felt tight as sharp pain tickled her nerves, but she persevered until pinched skin ripped between her teeth. A swell of blood swathed her tongue in the twinge of iron. 

"Then by my blood, you may follow me," she pressed the knot in her palm to her bloodied lip, the lightest sound of a peck ticked by her gentle kiss,"I trust that I won't regret this?"

She passed the ball gently back to its creator's open palm, where it was quickly ignited into a sparkling blue flame. Though no larger than a candle, Anya gazed into its center as the stench of burning hair lifted to her nose. The flicker lit her new companion's strange expression as new words were spoken. 

"How curious."

Anya's eyes peeled away from the alluring light. 

"You didn't answer my question."

A response never came, the flame instead growing to fill the clawed hand, basking the room in wafting blue light. Their shadows stretched towards the ceiling as the flame and its body leaned closer to Anya. She quietly noted its lack of warmth.

"Won't you at least tell me your name?" 

Her breath huffed, causing the tip of the fire to quiver. She searched for those piercing eyes to once more glare into her for asking another question, but they seemed preoccupied with other parts of her face. She nearly sighed in defeat when at last an answer was quietly uttered. 

"Kaede."

"Kaiday?"

"Kaede."

"Kaede. Like keye and deh?"

When a correction didn't come, she took it as enough. With that out of the way, she brought her hands to her hair where Kaede's gaze kept lingering.

"What do you keep looking at?" 

"I don't believe I saw my mark on your father in our brief encounter. Every bond is different, but this…" Anya blushed under Kaede's scrutiny, the sight of soft ears perked forward in interest enough to make her feel sheepish. The memory of the examination she underwent earlier, claws to skin, made her feel an odd sense of relief for her current follow up, twinged with a strange stir of anxiety in her stomach. 

"Your mark? I don't feel any different." Anya ran her fingers through her scalp, stretching familiar curls as they flowed under her grasp. 

"Not for now, but the longer we stay bonded, the more you will be aware of the spirits around you. I can see them naturally, but your kind must either cultivate or be born with an innate ability. Consider this the mark of my blessing." Satisfied once more, Kaede averted her eyes and extinguished her flame, making way for the door. Plunged back into dim lighting, Anya strained her eyes as she pulled a curl towards her nose, determined to understand this so called mark.

 A sudden gasp leapt from her lips, peculiar coils of stark white twirled between her fingers. In comparison to her usual deep brown lochs, these strands seem to glow against her dark, taupe skin. Her hair nevertheless remained thick and shining, set apart from the typical dull and thinning silver of age, almost ghostly and most certainly ominous as a head of hair. 

Anya called out to the hall where Kaede had disappeared, a hint of concern in her voice,"Is this permanent?"

She stepped into the corridor, looking for any sort of acknowledgment. The last rays of sunset had finally died into the milky light of moonrise, dappled through the autumn leaves as it shone on the walls of paper panes. She just barely caught a glimpse of the hem of crimson robes flitting around the corner, urging her to rush forward in pursuit. 

“Kaede! Is this permanent?!” She swung around the bend of the hall in a frenzy to catch up, but stumbled to catch her step as she nearly barrelled into Kaede’s shoulder. Kaede was sliding a panel open, revealing another room. This one was furnished with a simple sleeping mat and cabinet, but completely lacked any sign of recent habitation. Nevertheless, Anya felt a chill as Kaede intruded the personal space without hesitation. 

“Are you sure we should be in here? Isn’t this a bit…”

Kaede ignored her concerns as she pulled open a drawer, exploring its contents with a delicate hand. When it failed to meet her needs, she closed it shut and opened another. Careful not to disturb any of the articles neatly folded inside, she drew out a long piece of cloth dyed a gentle blue. 

“Come,” she ordered, outstretching the wrap in her hands, beckoning Anya forward. Finally understanding, Anya took ginger steps into the room as if disturbing even the dust would be enough to invoke the wrath of the owner. Kaede continued with undeterred indifference, touching the front of the cloth to Anya’s forehead. 

Though Anya was familiar with wrapped styles of hair back home, she only occasionally took advantage, and the style of cloth and tie were slightly off from the motions Kaede was using. She once again found her cheeks feeling a bit warm as Kaede compressed her hair to her head with a final tuck of the scarf, but she didn’t dare look up as it was done. 

“This will do. You’re already obvious as a foreigner, but the hair would have truly grabbed too much attention.” 

Anya finally brought up enough courage to make eye contact, again. 

“We’re leaving now? It’s just turning into night…”

“I’ve no desire to rest here any more.”

“You, perhaps, but I have been travelling for months!” Anya exclaimed.

“Then you may travel another night.” Kaede swept past Anya, her steps silent. Something pricked at Anya’s nerves. The continued disregard was getting tiring, and the more she sat on it, the more she realized Kaede’s anchorage to her blood would not save her from being bullied. As they currently stood, Anya was like a pestering child asking endless questions as she was being led around by an exasperated adult, and with that perspective, her pride began to revolt. 

“We’ll leave in the morning, I said.” she mustered up a stern tone, though a nervous sweat dotted the back of her neck. Much to her surprise, Kaede stopped in her tracks. She eagerly grasped the opportunity.

“I-I understand you are eager to leave, but I am only human. A human miles away in a foreign land, I might add, who in finally discovering a lead on her missing father finds he dabbled in the dark arts, has still yet to find him, and now is in a pact with a demon herself. My apologies if said human would like a moment to rest, not to mention question the locals for any sense of direction rather than wander aimlessly at the whims of a scarcely tamed fox she barely knows in the middle of the night!” 

Kaede did not turn around as she listened, making Anya’s stress stir as she tried to dissect the mood between them. Kaede’s final response was as cold as their first greeting.

“Fine. Enjoy your rest. We’ll leave at dawn.” with those words, Keade continued to walk down the hall. Anya still felt bitter defeat, even the anticipated glimpse of an irate tail not enough to lift her gloom as she took her leave back into the room. With the door closed behind her, she rubbed her face in frustration, pulling her cheeks with her palms until they snapped back into place. 

A rocky start. That’s all this is. She’ll get over it once we start moving. Right? 

Letting out a sigh, she took another survey of the room. It really was quite bare, only housing the essentials. Kaede may have been bold enough to rummage through the drawers, but Anya was just barely comfortable enough to plead the shrine spirits to forgive her trespass as she borrowed the dusty mat on the floor. The room had an awful draft, another detail to despair over in this unfortunate night, but Anya digressed as she curled up as comfortable as possible. As she fell asleep, her mind was aglow with the burning thoughts of fox fire.