Fumina

Fumina tumbled backward, carved cane flying, as the butterfly landed squarely on their nose. The training exercise was simple: "Stillness of the Frozen Wind." For one hour, they were to stand amidst the cherry blossoms of The Great Panda City and become one with the unmoving bamboo. Their instructor had warned that distractions would come. Fumina had expected a sudden gust, perhaps a loud merchant's call from the street below. Not this. Not a tiny, winged menace with orange spots. They flailed, trying to wave it off without moving their feet, resulting in a wobbly, frantic dance. The cane clattered against a ceremonial gong, waking a dignitary from the Panda Council from their nap. The butterfly flew away. Fumina was left, frozen in a pose of pure shock, as their instructor sighed. The butterfly had been the test.