Baraha

Baraha keeps everyone well-fed. It’s what they do. The locals in The Heart of the Forest believe the jam stain on Baraha’s cheek is just a sign of a passionate chef, that the ramen hat is pure whimsy. They see the fishing rod and think only of dinner. Baraha encourages these beliefs; it’s safer that way. But the visor isn't for shielding their eyes from the sun. It scans the treeline for anything that doesn't belong, anything that might disturb Aki’s peace. Every trip to the river is a patrol. This place, its joy and its songs, is no accident. It’s a garden, and a garden needs a quiet, determined keeper. Others see a cook. Baraha knows they are a sentinel holding a ladle instead of a sword.