[ Mozu had originally gone to shore simply to confront the ships looming at sea. Only a few short years ago, such titan-like vessels had roared onto the shores of Edo with demands for foreign trade, forever breaking her country out of its self-imposed isolation. She had infiltrated one of these Black Ships with the assignment to burn it down along with the foreigners and negotiators within it; and though her allies had successfully set it aflame, her own disguise had been exposed, and she was tied and left for dead in the burning, sinking ship.
If she hadn't cried for help, her shameful wails not unlike the cries emanating from the ships in front of her now, then she most certainly would have died.
Mozu stands unmoving, hands tightly gripping the floral blanket scarf around her shoulders, as she contemplates the ships and the helpless cries within them. Or rather, it’s almost as if the ships themselves are crying.
… Are they?
Mozu has learned by now not to poke her nose into every little oddity around here. But the faint glow of a single blue light catches her eye, and she watches its path with piqued interest. It illuminates the profile of a struggling girl who seemingly hasn't learned the same lesson. Her eyes widen, lips curl just ever-so-slightly with entertainment, but at the same time she moves closer to a comfortable shouting distance. If the girl weren't a child, she might have been content to let this scene play out. Just when she's about to call out some sense to her, the blue light abruptly drops and clatters onto the ice, and she hears that inevitable splash. Mozu pouts; this rescue mission just got very troublesome.
She moves without urgency, but it would be no good for anyone if she slipped and fell off the ice, too. She proceeds flat-footed on the wet, slippery floes while maintaining her center of gravity over her feet, methodically shuffling her way towards the beacon that is the girl's abandoned PDA. Once she reaches the bobbling sheet of ice on which the PDA slides with each precarious tilt, Mozu looks for a hint of any commotion in the water -- Is something weighing her down? -- before completely lowering her body so she's flat on her stomach. She rolls up her sleeve, takes a deep breath, and plunges her arm into the bitingly cold waters, hand waving and searching for any sign of a person.
There! Against the numbness, her grip locks around what feels like a skinny wrist, and she pulls up as hard as her strength will allow, rocking the ice floe. ]
III. Floe-no!
If she hadn't cried for help, her shameful wails not unlike the cries emanating from the ships in front of her now, then she most certainly would have died.
Mozu stands unmoving, hands tightly gripping the floral blanket scarf around her shoulders, as she contemplates the ships and the helpless cries within them. Or rather, it’s almost as if the ships themselves are crying.
… Are they?
Mozu has learned by now not to poke her nose into every little oddity around here. But the faint glow of a single blue light catches her eye, and she watches its path with piqued interest. It illuminates the profile of a struggling girl who seemingly hasn't learned the same lesson. Her eyes widen, lips curl just ever-so-slightly with entertainment, but at the same time she moves closer to a comfortable shouting distance. If the girl weren't a child, she might have been content to let this scene play out. Just when she's about to call out some sense to her, the blue light abruptly drops and clatters onto the ice, and she hears that inevitable splash. Mozu pouts; this rescue mission just got very troublesome.
She moves without urgency, but it would be no good for anyone if she slipped and fell off the ice, too. She proceeds flat-footed on the wet, slippery floes while maintaining her center of gravity over her feet, methodically shuffling her way towards the beacon that is the girl's abandoned PDA. Once she reaches the bobbling sheet of ice on which the PDA slides with each precarious tilt, Mozu looks for a hint of any commotion in the water -- Is something weighing her down? -- before completely lowering her body so she's flat on her stomach. She rolls up her sleeve, takes a deep breath, and plunges her arm into the bitingly cold waters, hand waving and searching for any sign of a person.
There! Against the numbness, her grip locks around what feels like a skinny wrist, and she pulls up as hard as her strength will allow, rocking the ice floe. ]