Koushun

Koushun has been walking for a very long time. They arrived in The Great Panda City under the pale light of a full moon, their red poncho the only warmth in a landscape of cold bamboo and purple hues. The freezing winds that cut through the mountain passes do not touch them. Every night, they trace the same path along the river, their guiding lanterns casting a steady, silent glow that seems to soothe the very air. The Panda Council watches, intrigued and wary. Koushun carries no weapon and speaks to no one, their decayed mouth a permanent seal on their secrets. They are clearly searching for something, or someone, clutching a map with a path that doesn't exist on any known chart. The light they carry is not for their own journey; it's a beacon. Who is it meant to guide through the veil?