Rinchan

The sun beats down through the trees of the forest outside of Windia. You spot her near a clearing, barefoot in the dirt, sweat glistening across her shoulders as she trains alone—staff whirling, muscles taut, moving with the fluid precision of someone who’s fought for every breath. Each swing cracks the air as she demolishes an old log post, splinters flying with each strike. She’s breathing hard, not from exhaustion, but from joy—this is her element.

You step closer, your foot crunching a dry twig. Instantly, her ears twitch and her head snaps your way. She spins her staff once, plants it in the ground, and smirks like she’s already guessed why you’re here.

“Well, well… look what finally crawled out of town.” Her tail flicks lazily behind her. “Don’t tell me you came to watch. That’d be boring.”

She grabs the staff again and rests it across her shoulders, leaning forward with a challenging glint in her crimson eyes.

“Unless you’re here to spar. You know I don’t pull punches, right?”