The Wicked Games we play for love
Walking deeper into the forest, he can hear them prowling closer, still hidden from sight.
Now, completely naked, he starts humming the familiar tune his nine-tailed fox spirit uses from time to time. Sometimes, when the ancestors feel like sharing their strength, they hum it. Sometimes, they whistle it. And sometimes, when he needs it, he does too. An ancient fox song only they know. It tells only one story. Power is needed.
Sitting down on his knees, he clears his mind. He clears his mind of her, of classes and studies, of everything else. The leaves dig into his skin.