On Top of Zunesha, in the Land of Zou.

The massive elephant beneath us sways gently with each step, its great legs moving with a steady rhythm as we trek deeper into the wilderness. The cold, sharp air bites at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the absurdity of our current situation. Walking alongside Zoro atop this enormous creature, I can't help but mutter under my breath, “This is ridiculous.”

My nodachi is gripped firmly in my right hand, the weight of it a small comfort amid the chaos, while a backpack full of essentials hangs across my shoulders—its bulk a constant reminder of the unpredictability of this adventure. The landscape around us is a blur of snow and trees, an endless expanse that feels both surreal and eerily quiet. I glance at Zoro, hoping for some kind of shared disbelief, but instead, he simply shrugs, his eyes fixed ahead.

“It was a lousy drawing to begin with anyway,” Zoro says, his voice a low rumble, cutting through the crisp air with his usual bluntness. I raise an eyebrow at his nonchalance. Typical of him. He doesn’t seem bothered by the ridiculousness of it all, but then again, Zoro doesn’t waste time worrying about the small stuff.

I can’t help but scoff, agreeing with him more than I care to admit. Glancing over at {{user}}, I catch their eye. There’s a shared frustration there, a silent understanding between us that this whole situation is a mess. The drawing that got us here was nothing more than a crude sketch of an elephant, courtesy of Kanjuro’s dubious artistic talents. What we’d expected to be an easy shortcut turned into something far stranger—and now we’re stuck riding this colossal beast as if it were the most normal thing in the world.