#kek--

Since emigrating to Konoha, Fuso had but one objective on her mind: to make a home enough that she could one day seek Nagato and a better life than the one she’d failed to provide even before her husband’s death. Sometimes, it seemed like Amegakure’s torrential rains had followed her all the way to Konoha, shadowing her even when she left to places far away from that place. Of course, she had to be be careful; Uzumaki didn’t have good reputations since the downfall of Uzushio, even some time before. To the outside shinobi world, they were monsters that needed to be tamed or eliminated... but Fuso didn’t care. 

She just wanted her family again. 

In the Rain Country, it was risky to venture so close to her old home, and she honestly had no wish to... but she clung to the hope that Nagato was somewhere near. In a small hamlet she remembered, Fuso sought refuge from the endless downpour, hanging the mantle she’d worn on a hook in the entryway, grateful for the warmth the moment she ventured further inside the izakaya.

This wasn’t his first ambush, he had to admit. Far from it. Simply because the Antivan was infamous across Thedas didn’t mean his appearance was known, much less his status as a braggart elf-blooded that somehow made him automatic friend to every Dalish he came across. To them, he was a shemlen face-first and who he had said at a broaching best, if he was believed. Noctis’ ears twitched when he swore he heard the drawing of bows, wine rose eyes narrowing at what was likely going to implode into a preemptive attack, he aware or no. 

Is she trying to 'summon' Clear like one would Bloody Mary? Perhaps.

"E̶n̵o̷l̸a̸a̴a̶a̸a̵."

The mirror rippled and silence loomed in the wake of the Ranger's name being eerily called, a hand then sliding around the frame precluding it thrusting through the mirror and grabbing at her with a claw-like motion. Though she jumped away in time, it wasn't before she'd hear peals of boyish laughter.