Genkai curled into her meditation pose, the winter sun barely warming her wrinkled face, a bitter wind whistling unnoticed through the eaves of her temple. The powdery covering of snow lay gently over the earth, hushing all noise, making the forest bright and glistening as ivory, the color of the bare branches like paint over the tusks. Ice bent the giant trees, Atlas's curved back, boughs sagging under the weight.
Despite living in a temple, Genkai was not a devout woman. She did service to the Gods as they required, keeping them from interfering too hotly with her lonely life, but there was no one religion she subscribed to; she knew that all holiness was sacred. But for the young boy that broke her solitude and the girl that kept it broken, she felt she might have lost something years agoperhaps did lose it, but managed to claim it back.
Her little legs remained crossed, back straight, taking deep breaths of the cool air. A hare stirred the brush in front of her, long legs fly
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