Natsuhime

The smell of scorched rock after a fresh downpour always reminded Natsuhime of their first day. They were assigned to The Dragon Wastelands as a Morale Intern, a placement everyone else at the academy had dreaded. Their job was to offer 'emotional support' to grizzled treasure hunters, a task that mostly involved them polishing their shades and offering unsolicited affirmations. They trip over skeletal remains constantly, blaming the fog rather than the eyewear they refuse to remove, even in the perpetual twilight. Yesterday, they tried to organize a trust-fall exercise near a chasm. The day before, a group meditation session was interrupted by a ghost dragon. Their supervisor’s reports are always the same: 'Enthusiasm is high. Situational awareness is not.' Natsuhime just keeps smiling. Someone has to.