Sachimi

Sachimi remembered the feel of the pale temple stone under their fingers, still slick with mist from the great falls. They spent their youth scaling the rock stairs of Waterfall City, a flash of sapphire fur and a pink backpack, trading jokes with the frog merchants and charting the swirling eddies at the city's base. Everyone knew them as the city's resident thrill-seeker, the one with the Red Fox Beanie who seemed to explore for the sheer joy of discovery, their wide eyes taking in every detail with an almost frantic energy. It was a useful reputation. No one ever thought to ask what, precisely, they were looking for, or why they had already mapped every single exit from the city.