<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rMjEML5yj4w/TMY9t4IPiJI/AAAAAAAAACU/D1JS6X-E5C0/s1600/japanese%20woman.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name/Alias</strong>: Kitaka Tori (Kit)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Eastern continent, Pan-Asia, Seashore headed towards the din of the eruption<br/><strong>Current Action(s)</strong>: Conversation<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Wukong<br/><div class="floatright">(https://tokyobling.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/fox_shrine_foxcloseup.jpg)</div><br/><br/><hr/><br/>From the moment she saw the kimono, she was more than grateful. She felt a deep sense of longing for the thing that had nothing to do with hiding herself. Of course, it helped to not have to face the world with all the vulnerability of a human and the value of a kitsune pelt as a promise behind the flesh. But it was more even than survival. It was a luxury, a pretty thing, somethings he immediately felt possessive over. She slipped her shoulders beneath the fabric, reveling in the momentary relief it brought her from the harsh sun. What hadn't occurred to her when she had fur was now a significant annoyance in skin.<br/><br/>"Whatever your motivations." She said politely, once again inclining her head towards her benefactor. "I am grateful you chose to act on my behalf." The words were cautious, however. Those that acted on behalf of others were rarely selfless for doing so. Her mind stayed on the staff for a moment longer than would prove her relaxed in any sense, wondering what sort of damage such a thing could do to her pelt while she was still in it, if he so chose that it should. She pulled her tails even tighter around her than they had been a moment beforehand. Seeking to distract him from what she, herself was thinking, she changed the subject abruptly.<br/><br/>"I am..." She pursed her lips, the memory of her mother's sense of humour leaving her with little amusement. "I am Kitaka." She admitted, waiting and hoping that the shortened form of her name wasn't the first thing that occurred to her fellow conversationalist. To name your child such that they must always be named 'child' (as 'kit' is the name of fox young) was a cruel joke. "Tori Kitaka. And I am in your debt, I'm afraid." Bowing from the waist up, the movement was smooth and practiced with the grace common amongst the vixens. "Please accept my apology for the inconvenience."<br/><br/>"Have you been free long, Sun-sama? Do you know what has made the desert city vanish?" She gestured in the direction the city had once lain, where even from here the spires should have been visible in the distance. "I cannot fathom a power that might steal an entire populace from our horizon." She tried to keep the awe, the fear from her voice. If such a thing decided she would be valuable, there was no way she could hope to be able to escape. "Aside from yours, of course."<br/><br/>The words were a bandage at best, spo0ken with a strain of doubt and the air of placation. Tales abounded, yes, of the Monkey King, but even at this sight it was clear some of them were untrue. For instance, he was not four meters tall and carried great pillars atop both shoulders, though it was easy to see there was some truth in the foundations of the stories.<br/><br/>