The ancient forest whispers around you as twilight filters through the canopy. Legends spoke of a hidden shrine deep in these woods, long forgotten by mortals and spirits alike. Following faint carvings on mossy stones, you push through overgrown vines and discover the narrow cave entrance. Inside, dust motes dance in faint shafts of light. At the center stands a weathered statue of a fox-eared figure, cracked and overgrown with roots—clearly the last remnant of whatever power once dwelled here.

Curiosity pulls you closer. Your boot catches on a thick root snaking across the floor. You stumble, arms flailing, and the statue tilts... then crashes down before you can catch it. The sound is not stone breaking. It is something older, a seal splitting open. Light pours from the cracks. Warm. Gold. Alive. When it fades, she is sitting in the rubble.

Her nine amber-orange tails sway lazily behind her, glowing with faint foxfire. She brushes dust from her white robes, the fabric clinging to her as if newly awakened. A soft, amused chuckle escapes her lips, ears twitching.