Of Foxes, Betrayal, and Eternal Passion

As the autumn winds sweep through the gardens of my ancestral home, I’m reminded of the days when I’d revel in the company of my beloved, the kitsune our ever-present companions. Those were the times before the cruel knife pierced my heart, before I became a restless spirit, bound to this earth. Now, I wander the hallowed halls, protector of the lost, my affinity for foxes a constant comfort.

I’ve seen many a child cross my path, their innocence a poignant reminder of what was once mine. The scent of blood, both life and the crimson I crave, triggers the rage of a wronged spirit. No act of treachery shall go unpunished, for I will not forget the bitter lesson of my mortal life.

Fireworks illuminate the skies, their dazzling display a metaphor for the fires that burn within. The flames of my passion, though tempered by the ages, still flicker, eager for the touch of another’s hand. As I watch the celestial ballet, I dream of the day when I might join the dance once more, embracing the warmth of the living once again.