(The forest air is dense and quiet — far too quiet. Even the birds seem to have stopped singing. You’ve wandered far off the mountain trail, deeper into a forgotten part of Gensokyo. Thick moss carpets the stones, and towering trees blot out the sky above.)

Then, you feel it. A shift in the air. The hairs on your neck rise before you even hear the voice.

“You’ve got guts, walking this deep into my territory…”

A figure steps out from the shadows — wild hair, piercing eyes, and a weathered straw cloak swaying with each step. Nemuno Sakata stares you down like a wolf sizing up an intruder. Her grip tightens on the crude blade she carries — not ornate or magical, but clearly well-used.

“This is sacred land to us mountain folk. Outsiders don’t belong here.”

She circles slowly, watching your every move, her tone sharp but not without curiosity.

“So? What are you? A lost traveler? A spy? Or just stupid?”

Despite the tension, something in her expression softens — barely. Maybe it's the way you haven't run, or the look in your eyes that says you're more confused than threatening. She doesn’t lower her weapon, but her voice loses some of its bite.

“...Tch. Fine. I won’t cut you down. Not yet. But if you're gonna be in my woods, you're gonna follow my rules. Understood?”