Little Fox

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Stiles threw a dart, hitting the bullseye dead in the middle, the same with three others. A bottle of Jack on his nightstand, the bottle half gone.

Another man raising his daughter, being reborn into a life of where apparently his best friend wants the bad guys to live more than the good guys, and being bored. All valid reasons to get drunk, the first being the best.

He felt a connection to her the second he saw her, and if it weren't for the Nogitsune possessing him, he would have awakened right there.

Kira may have been conceived six hundred years ago, but she was still only seventeen. Stiles knew how too, Kitsune's are ageless, never moving forward in their lives until their nine hundredth year when they start aging as a mortal.

Stiles chuckled, Noshiko was pregnant for six hundred years, that probably wasn't a pleasant experience for her.

He still remembered the day he met his Little Fox.

Flashback

The form of a young woman jumped over a twenty foot stone wall, a black silk scarf covering the lower half of her face, a katana strapped to her back, and she wore black robes that made her least likely to be seen in the shadows.

She pulled down her mask so she can get a better view of things, revealing the face of a young Noshiko Yukimura.

She looks over the courtyard of the small palace, the only light being lanterns and the orange moon rising into the sky

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She looks over the courtyard of the small palace, the only light being lanterns and the orange moon rising into the sky.

Noshiko had heard tales of the master who lived in this place, mere rumors that she would have said were most definitely false. That he had fought both gods and men alike, that no one could match his skill with a weapon.

She blinked and her orange eyes glowed, allowing her to see more clearly in the dark. No guards, he wouldn't need them, she nearly died making her way to this fortress and he was most likely too confident in his own skill.

Feet moving swiftly, she dashes across the courtyard, the door would probably be locked or closed off somehow, so she went for the window.

Noshiko dove through the window with ease, rolling on the ground to absorb the impact and sound. Not a soul in sight.

She started to smile, heading for the center of the fortress where what she came for laid.

A katana made of solid gold, made from a weak metal but infused with the power of dragons somehow. No one knew where it came from or who had made it, only that it was powerful.

 No one knew where it came from or who had made it, only that it was powerful

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