Junkojuro's morning ruminations did not remain peaceful for long. Nobody in particular had disturbed him -- directly anyway -- but it was clear to the fox that today would be a very busy day for the young lord. The several diplomats, though they traveled peacefully and respectfully, inevitably disturbed the routines of the nearby animals. The servants rushed about, their greetings more brief and curt than usual due not only to the sudden necessity of their services but also to their eagerness to please a new master. Of course, so far as he could see, there were no malign intentions in these people, but he felt the change of pace deeper than the average mortal. However, the feeling that really surged through his veins, though, was the changing of fortune. It would be challenging for Ryuunosuke to make his most important decisions in his youth, but fate had already cast the dice, and even the fox would be unsure how they would land. He always liked to inform the lord whenever his fortune was in such a state, but today Ryuunosuke would have his hands full; cryptic warnings would be a needless distraction.

Junkojuro finished his rounds in the garden and was putting away his watering can when a sensation that could only be described as a sharpening of his sixth sense came over him. Messenger foxes had told him that a wolf from the Hakuro clan would be visiting. Was this her? Well... it seemed she [i]was[/i] here, but that's not what this sensation was. It wasn't simply the raw essence of a spirit; there was a sort of duality to this sensation. A warning? An invitation? Ah, it was both. The sender of the message was good at covering bases, thwarting threats while simultaneously avoiding unnecessary conflict; lesser spirits would likely only feel one sensation or another. But that raised one burning question: who was the sender? Junkojuro made it a point to keep his distance from shrines, but this sensation made it seem as if he was standing before a set of red arches. Were the priests and priestesses going to involve themselves with the politics of the new lord? That would be unlikely, especially this time of year, but that prickling on his neck was unmistakable. 

Junkojuro picked up his watering can once again, refilled it, and began walking to the courtyard nearest the main building where Ryuunosuke was holding his audiences, and coincidentally where that message had originated from. It had been a long time since he had a good spiritual conversation with a mortal, even long since he had a friendly one. "Oh, Kojuro-San, did you forget something?" a curious servant asked, noting the groundskeeper's unusually quick pace. 

"Quite the opposite," Junkojuro replied. "It seems I've found something." 

Before long, he was behind the reception room, about as close to the source of the message as he could get without actually entering. That was the easy part; now he had to decide how to reply. Ought he simply enter the room and outright reveal himself? A human that could give off such an aura would no doubt see through his disguise with one good look. He certainly didn't want to threaten the human, but did he want it to be known just how powerful he was? Perhaps a little glimpse, just enough to make him think there was more than a lowly imp wandering about; just enough to make him curious...

And so, he began to gather a wisp of foxfire in his hand, the pale blue flame invisible to any mortals that would be passing by. He projected his thoughts, his emotions, his soul, into the flame, and once the balance was just right, he snapped his hand shut. The sensation that pulsed from his palm would be utterly unnoticed by most mortals, but those with "the sight" would feel little else for a brief moment. His message was decisive, not ambivalent as was Kanaka's. He let his spiritual strength be felt, but did not intend to overwhelm; it was not so much like the forceful crashing of an ocean wave as it was the gentle pull of a wave's recession. There was a strong will in the message, one fitting a a creature that had spent 400 years protecting these lands, but there was not a shred of aggression. And finally, if this person was willing to listen, to absorb everything he had to say, they would find at the center of it all kindness, a warm welcome to compliment the one that had just been sent. He realized that the Hakuro wolf would likely be able to feel this too, as would any other hapless spirit that happened to be wandering by, but that was all for the better. Perhaps it would be comforting for the wolf to know that she wasn't the only Youkai in the Wolf's Den.