Chimper #3590
The Avalanche. They say it with a shiver, but Sachiya knows it started as a joke. Back when they were just another trainee in a crisp green uniform, sent to scout the chasms of The Underworld. The war paint was for fun, a playful dare from a fellow recruit. The mission was simple: observe and report. But the silence of the ash-choked plains was suffocating, and a moment of boredom took over. A single, perfectly aimed arrow struck a loose shard of obsidian high on a cliff face, just to watch it skitter down. They never anticipated the chain reaction—the groan of stressed rock, the cascade that buried an entire encampment of Kaze cultists. Sachiya remembers only the roar and the dust. They still wear the paint, but the shocked look isn't an act.
