A worn missionary path stretched far into the neighbouring forest of a small insignificant village. On either side the sun stretched it's tendrils through the ever shifting trees. A light northern wind touched them gently, and nature's everpresent song was playing for any who would listen. Three hundred meters down this very path, the shadow of a man crept along the stones and dirt, following him as any shadow does.<br/><br/>His eyes were not cast down upon it, but sighted ahead of him, as if fixed on a goal. He was tall, about 6'2", with blackened hair pulled into a warrior's wolf tail. His face gave away one of youth, maybe early twenties, but the hard lines upon it showed someone who was constantly deep in thought. His skin reminded someone of a charcoal maker's hands after a work day. Smooth and ashen white. His eyes were closed, and his expression suddenly seemed to flinch, his eyebrows furrowing for some unknown reason. Despite the only sound were his wooden sandals against the ground, his blue and black kimono's fabric shifting against his Katana, and the wind moving the trees, his eyes darted to the left in annoyance.<br/><br/>One might think an obvious warrior like himself had just spotted an ambush, but even the most advanced Demon's senses would see or hear nothing but the sounds of the forest. This is because what Moroa was responding to was a companion only he could see.<br/><br/>On his left was Moroa's "friend," Katako. A wraith whom shared ownership of Moroa's body. While Moroa was in control of his own faculties, Katako was part of his very mind. Katako, in his blue ghostly form, was currently speaking to Moroa for the fourth time since the Ronin had requested they travel in silence. Moroa rather enjoyed the sounds and feel of the forest. As of late he had gained a new appreciation for the life around him.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, but i'm really bored. Couldn't we just, play eye spy or something?" Said Katako. He was dressed similarly to Moroa, as he too was once a samurai warrior. The difference between the two were Katako's longer and more expressive face. His own hair, a ghostly blue like the rest of his form, was tied into a long pony tail.<br/><br/>"I do not want to play eye spy, no." Replied Moroa.<br/><br/>"What about tag, we'll get there sooner."<br/><br/>"I cannot touch you, tag isn't even an option."<br/><br/>Katako gave a long "AGhhhhhhh" in reply, and threw his arms behind his head, continueing their walk. He could simply disappear into Moroa's mind at any time, but preferred to see the world out of his own eyes while they travelled.<br/><br/>By this time, Moroa had reached the treeline, and spotted the village he wished to reach through the foliage. He hefted his traveling pack upwards, adjusting it, and began to walk again. It was rather small, his bedroll doubling the pack's size. It seemed insufficient for travelling supplies, really. Moroa had decided upon this path because of the village ahead. It was rather famous for it's shrine, favorable for prayers.<br/><br/>"I don't know why you want to stop and pray anyways, Kami already did your favor--"<br/><br/>"Don't speak about it." Moroa cut him off, just before stepping within the boundaries of the village. He would avoid talking to Katako while in town, as it wasn't exactly favorable to see someone talking to themselves. Moroa rather disliked unneeded attention. This, however, had never stopped Katako from speaking to him. Noone else could hear him, so he had actually gained a habit of speaking the most when Moroa couldn't tell him to shut up. Moroa's eyes wandered around the shopping district he had arrived at. Several women were making their daily trips back from the river after drawing water, and people bustled about with their daily shopping. He caught the eye of a bored looking fruit vendor, a sleepy eyed old man. Moroa approached him and gave a kind smile, his eyes reciprocating the same attitude. His voice was a dramatic change from the flat tone he had used when he was annoyed with Katako.<br/><br/>"Excuse me, sir, which way is it to the shrine."<br/><br/>"The shrine? Yes it's just down the road, and within the walls. You can't miss it." The man nodded curtly, raising his finger and pointing towards the north end of the village.<br/><br/>Moroa thanked him and headed in that direction, knowing nothing of the events about to transpire which would effect him deeply.