Kawase

Kawase never learned to love the feeling of a sword in their hand. Their hands, trained by Mokuzai to carve intricate patterns into fallen branches, were meant for creating, not destroying. They spent their youth in The Heart of the Forest, content with the scent of amber leaves and the songs of the locals. Then a traveler arrived, one with eyes like distant storms and a restless spirit. They spoke of quests and forgotten cities, and Kawase listened, their own quiet world expanding with every word. When the traveler inevitably left, a piece of the forest's peace went with them. The unease in Kawase’s heart became a constant hum. They took up a blade not for glory, but out of a desperate, anxious need to know the one they loved was safe, walking paths far from home with a love that is heavier than any armor.