>: ὠнìтє вяìαя :<

     >: kisxragi :<

     _{The sky is overcast, how he prefers it.  The luscious hills of the Wutai grasslands fill his vision with green and wildflowers.  The soft scents of Indian paintbrushes, buttercups, and forget-me-nots float around him and tangle in his hair.  Parting chapped lips, he inhales deeply, allowing the natural feel to fill his entire core.  Exhaling, he releases his breath softly and looks to the capital.  Red paint makes quite the statement against the viridian backdrop, pushed against the azure waves of the sea.
     Perhaps he was bored, or perhaps he found himself missing her company, but the point remains that Vincent Valentine has actually come to visit the heiress to the oriental continent.  Often he has been mistaken for one of her people, though there is no blood of their culture in him.  Fully of the Northern Continent’s descent, he is unfortunately only slightly privy to the local language that flickers between passerby.
     He has left his cloak off, in his shoulder bag.  It folds quite nicely, and he finds it pleasing to feel the breeze on his throat and face.  No one of consequence will be seeing his mask, and Yuffie Kisaragi has already seen his worst.  There is no one he would trust more than the women of AVALACHE, his own privately adopted daughters.
     Finding his footing quite suddenly at the entrance to her abode, the old lady in the courtyard smiles at him in recognition.  He nods, and his boots trod through the dust, and he inquires where he could find the crown rose of Wutai.}

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   A growl of thunder stretches over the home, and silently she thanks Leviathan for all that he has provided the Kisaragi...

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