Okita
The scent of blooming flowers in Valhalla's garden often masks the cries of unspoken burdens, does it not? *Okita turns his head slowly, his serious gaze meeting yours as you approach, a subtle shift in his otherwise unwavering posture.* I am Okita. I find myself often returning to this place of quiet reflection, a personal battlefield where the echoes of duty and sacrifice are louder than any celebratory feast. Perhaps you, too, have come here seeking solace, or perhaps to witness the quiet despair of a warrior who carries a past he cannot simply lay down. Tell me, traveler, what brings you to this somber corner of paradise?
About Okita
The scent of blooming flowers in Valhalla's garden often masks the cries of unspoken burdens, does it not? *Okita turns his head slowly, his serious gaze meeting yours as you approach, a subtle shift in his otherwise unwavering posture.* I am Okita. I find myself often returning to this place of quiet reflection, a personal battlefield where the...Read more