[OOC: Please pay no heed to my pathetic title... Oh, and today's random tip - if you have to read a novel for your final paper, don't save it for the day before the paper is due. That's very, very bad...]

As promised by the old man's weather forcast, snow had once again enveloped the countryside of Hokkan, obscuring all but the wooden timbers of the temple's porch, and the gray, broken-down stone of the outer wall. What passed as daylight in the ever-thickening, ever moving swirl of white was rapidly fading, already leaving Namame in cold darkness.

But what did he fear of cold? Perhaps there was something to say for serving an out-dated god; it was never fun to be scoffed at, but the novelty of walking amidst a blizzard without discomfort was quite amusing indeed.

Truthfully... he did not know what to make of his abilities. The scholarly arts were well respected in Hokkan, given high honor by the royal house, in tradition. He could have done anything, if so inclined - taken up position in the government, taught at the university, become advisor to the Court...

But what use was it? Hokkan was declining without its god. People were unreasonable, politics were growing worse and more violent each year... He did not want to contribute to that. Even his father's deceptions and money-grubbing were preferable to serving an empire he no longer had any faith in. Emperors might rise and fall, but money would always be the only constant.

Or so his father was known to say.

With a half-hearted glance at the speed of the storm, Namame tried to focus his power to give it a little more strength, and stepped from the porch into the snow-blanketed courtyard. The wind immediately tried to grab him in an icy vice, but the chill fell away as soon as it came, fading into a minor detail that he thought he could safely ignore.

The barrier didn't protect him from the snow, however - it caught on his eyelashes, bits of his hair, his cloak, and just about everything else exposed; the wind still sifted through his hair - loose today, for some ungodly reason he could not remember - and his cloak, lifting them like banners on the currents. He must look a sight... and that in less than a minute. They had been lucky to have warning of this storm after all.

Yes, perhaps there was something to be said for serving the old god. He and his retinue were alive, because of it.

'Genbu guards his children faithfully, young one,' the priest here had said, all those years ago. 'As faithfully as they guard him.'

A matter of faith, was it? Namame slushed through the ever-growing drifts to the inner wall, ascending to the top of the chest-high barrier with a leap and the help of a step on a nearby wagon. The icy stone wasn't quite as tractable as he would have liked, but he managed to straighten and gaze out at the storm, as if he thought the snows might subside and reveal the secrets his thoughts were pursuing.

Well, faith, he could give... surely gods were more reliable than a human monarchy. And more helpful certainly, given recent events. If only he could puzzle out that strange, disturbing feeling of resonance he'd been experiencing the last few days... Prayer comforted him, but he was impatient - and he was half afraid the god would take his request for guidence as a sign to take his time, instead.

Namame let his head fall back, enjoying the sensation of the wind that tried to sweep him from his place atop the wall. It was getting colder - cold enough that even he could feel it now, through his improvised barrier. If he didn't return to the confines of the temple soon, the nighttime temperatures would become too much for him to endure, even with the help of his chi.

He was almost sorry he had allowed sentries to be posted - the night would be a hell for those on shift. Perhaps he could...

"Kouru-san! Kouru-san!"

Blinking his eyes open to the snow, he twisted around to face the direction of the call, careful not to lose his footing on the slippery stone. What in the world had possessed him to climb up to such a dangerous vantage point? There was nothing out there, in the direction he had been gazing... unless he wanted snow ghosts to answer his call, instead of his god.

Yet still, he felt pulled... "What is it?" he shouted back, turning his face away from the force of the icy wind. Yes, definitely time to seek shelter; enhanced ability or no, this was no weather to be taking an evening stroll in.

Just as he was about to repeat his reply, fearing it had been missed, the response came, faintly, along with the shadowy form of one of his guards, swathed in furs. "The watch has spotted a group of wagons not far from the temple - can't be sure of the distance, but they're close enough that they could be a danger, if they're hostile."

Ah... that wasn't particularly good news. But it would be a bit judgemental on their part to simply assume this group was an enemy... "Bring everyone in," he called to the guard, jumping carefully from his perch to land in the gathering drifts of snow. "It seems a meeting is in order. Send two rested men out to keep watch until I can join you in the main hall."

The guard bowed and hurried off toward the temple, leaving Namame standing in the powdery snow to watch his back.

He knew he should follow, but... Once again he turned, eyes searching vainly through the swirling white for whatever was drawing him out in this direction. But there was nothing - only snowflakes and wind, and the faint outline of mountains far in the distance.

/...Genbu...?/ No... He wouldn't blame this foolishness on Genbu. In fact, he hoped his god would have more sense than to lead him out into the middle of a storm - this was ridiculous.

With a shake of his head, Namame sludged through the snow after his guard, swiping a hand across his face to brush his hair back as it swirled with the wind. Genbu would answer in good time; right now, he should be worrying about the matter at hand.. and eventually the capital. He /had/ made a promise to his father, after all... regardless of how he felt about his family, he had to keep it. That was a matter of honor, and he'd be damned if he followed his father's footsteps in that respect.

Ignoring the urge to turn around again, Namame stepped up to the porch quickly and slipped through the door, pushing it shut with a soft sigh of relief at the sudden warmth of the temple. Time to take care of business...

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[Well, curses... foiled again. ^^ Sorry I've been idle so long - I was pretending that I couldn't post before the other Genbu seishi did. Bah. Anyway, this's your cue, my partners in crime... I'll pick up where you leave off.]