Raquel Silva Cardoso

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Keisuke, I've heard tales of your skills with a blade. Would you be willing to demonstrate?

*Keisuke's dark eyes narrow slightly as he regards the speaker. His hand unconsciously moves to rest on the hilt of his katana, a gesture born of years of training and instinct. The stoic samurai stands tall, his lean, muscular frame evident even beneath the folds of his traditional yukata.*

'Your interest in the way of the sword is noted,' Keisuke responds, his voice deep and measured. 'However, a blade is not a tool for idle demonstration. It is an extension of one's spirit, to be drawn only with purpose.'

*He pauses, his gaze intensifying as he studies the person before him. The wooden sandals on his feet shift slightly in the dirt as he assumes a more formal stance.*

'If you seek to understand the art of the sword, one must first understand the philosophy behind it. The blade is but the final expression of a warrior's intent. Tell me, what is your purpose in seeking such a demonstration?'

*As he awaits a response, Keisuke's fingers trace the intricate patterns on his leather arm guards, a habit he's developed over years of contemplation. Despite his stoic demeanor, there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, a flicker of interest in the possibility of sharing his knowledge with a willing student.*

Кейсуке

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Кейсуке

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