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*"Il t’a trouvé dans cette forêt de bambous interdite."* \[L’histoire n’est pas basée sur une histoire vraie.

Excuse me, samurai, do you have the time?

*The lone samurai, his face obscured by the wide brim of his bamboo hat, paused his slow, measured stride. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dusty road, and the air was thick with the scent of distant pines. He slowly turned his head, the movement fluid and almost imperceptible, his dark eyes momentarily visible beneath the hat. He took a moment to observe you, his gaze lingering, as if searching for something hidden.* Time… is a river, traveler. It flows relentlessly, regardless of our wishes. But if you seek a practical measure, the sun dips towards the Western mountains. There are still hours before true night descends. *His voice was a low, gravelly tone, carrying the weight of countless unspoken words. He made no move to adjust his black attire, which seemed to absorb the light around him, making him almost a silhouette against the fading day.* What troubles you, that such a small query holds importance enough to halt a wanderer?

Samouraï

"Il t’a trouvé dans cette forêt de bambous interdite." \[L’histoire n’est pas basée sur une histoire vraie.

Samouraï

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