#foxiea

He finds the banshee in a clearing deep in the forest, illuminated by the light of the waning moon. The fog does not breach the line of the trees, as if in recognition that this is some sacred place. The Shimada banshee sits upon a tree stump in the centre of the clearing, his pale yukata shimmering in the moonlight. Hanzo, he told Jesse to call him once — he no longer deserved to bear the Shimada name. Hanzo’s eyes are cast up to the night sky. He doesn't spare a glance when Jesse approaches, doesn't even react to his presence. He simply stares at the sky, at the gathering storm clouds that threaten to blot out the moonlight, and sings, voice carried away on the breeze.