[Ammy has never encountered a desert before - Nippon simply doesn't have that sort of climate. However, the heat doesn't bother her very much considering her affinity to the sun, but she does still have to keep plenty of water on hand. Pretty lucky she can call forth the rain at any time for a refill of her drinking gourd. However, even with the heat, dust and sand in her fur, and the need to constantly keep hydrated, Ammy isn't regretting the decision to come out all this way in the slightest. As the last rays of sunlight paint the skies overhead with a myriad of different colors (fitting, for she is both the sun and a master painter herself), she finds that it's not...quite the rays of the sun, but the wings of many moths, shimmering in the distance. Following their trail, the white wolf comes upon this old gentleman and his blanket, the powerful scent of incense, but also of fresh tea leaves coming off him. She's still several feet away, watching quietly as her tail wags behind her in a cute, friendly way, and--...oh?
She's not certain what exactly is happening, but the mood seems to have shifted, and it becomes clear as to why in but a moment. Images - shapes and sounds - fill the darkening air around them, like a dream or a memory...dust scattering from the wings of the moth to create a cloudy vision. A child's laugh, the sound of war drums...flames dancing high and unburdened, hungry...consuming. It's not difficult for Amaterasu to put the pieces together, and the old man's hunched form and tears confirm it. Yet...she feels not simple grief or sadness, but gratitude as well. It must been a long while now, since he's seen and heard such things from a lost one. Bittersweet...like a cup of green tea. Scalding sometimes, but also calming, too.
She approaches, ears folded and head low, sniffing at the old man and whining curiously at him before circling the spot close to him and laying down, leaning her head on one of his knees. Dogs are good at this sort of thing - a quiet presence to help when one is feeling a bit too much.]
Sunset Memories
She's not certain what exactly is happening, but the mood seems to have shifted, and it becomes clear as to why in but a moment. Images - shapes and sounds - fill the darkening air around them, like a dream or a memory...dust scattering from the wings of the moth to create a cloudy vision. A child's laugh, the sound of war drums...flames dancing high and unburdened, hungry...consuming. It's not difficult for Amaterasu to put the pieces together, and the old man's hunched form and tears confirm it. Yet...she feels not simple grief or sadness, but gratitude as well. It must been a long while now, since he's seen and heard such things from a lost one. Bittersweet...like a cup of green tea. Scalding sometimes, but also calming, too.
She approaches, ears folded and head low, sniffing at the old man and whining curiously at him before circling the spot close to him and laying down, leaning her head on one of his knees. Dogs are good at this sort of thing - a quiet presence to help when one is feeling a bit too much.]