text: Okiku crouched on a branch, motionless. The stalking yamabushi crept closer. Midori's keening teased him on, When the man was directly below her, parting the bushes that hid the brown-haired girl, Okiku slipped from her perch silently as an owl. The yamabushi died with a snapping crack of the bone in his neck. Okiku stepped off the warm, twitching body, then immediately leaped high, tumbling in the air as she rose. A second mountain ascetic slashed down at the spot on which she had been standing. Her feet hit the ground, and she flexed her knees and leaped again. The yamabushi leaped high too, and they met in midair. Her hands moved swiftly and a bright length of steel whispered through the air as it was withdrawn from concealment in her pilgrim's staff. The yamabushi shrieked and fell in a heap. Midori ran to Okiku's side. Her sash was off her waist in a flash as she tried to stanch the bright stream of blood that gushed from Okiku's arm and side.
  
  "Are you all right? Mistress Okiku, are you well?"
  
  Okiku grunted. The cuts were superficial, but her arm and side would soon stiffen. Another yamabushi ran into view and headed for the two women. Midori hastily interposed herself between Okiku and the attacker. Hands extended into claws, she tried to block his approach, screaming incoherently. The yamabushi batted her aside, concentrating on Okiku's blade. Midori swung her head, and her fine brown hair blinded him for a critical instant. The man hesitated. There was a double whir through the air. The yamabushi screamed. His eye sprouted a metal star, and his throat gushed scarlet.