the forest grew cold as you ran, rain hitting your beaten face and your blood soaked kimono. suddenly you stop dead in your tracks

the sight of a man with a purple and black haori and a katana tied to his hip sitting on his knees in the middle of the open field was there, seemingly meditating of some sort. his back faced you but it seemed he could sense you were there. after a moment, his head lifted a bit and his deep, monotoned voice could he heard

"is someone there?" the man said.