Having exercised our Kai Discipline of Running Away, we have bravely decided to flee the obnoxious bird and leave our former path in the forest.
For half an hour o rmore you press on through the forest, through the rich vegetation and ferns. You happen upon a small clear stream where you stop for a few minutes to wash your face and drink of the cold, fresh water.
Feeling revitalized, you cross the stream and press on. You soon notice the smell of woodsmoke which seems to be drifting towards you from the north.
I bet I know how this is going to go. After all, smoke can make you all itchy.
How the hell did we ever get accepted into the Kai monastery? We are such a coward!
Cloistered monastic orders aren’t really well known for their civic engagement. They usually wait for somebody to kill off their deadwood for them, and then send out the belligerent young survivors for Vengeance. The resultant carnage usually buys them a few more decades of peace and quiet.
Clearly, it’s time to remind everyone just why people should stay off our lawn.