Hunter by name | Hunter by birth

Streams of light peirced through the luscious tree canopies above the forest floor, they danced and gleaned with each sway of the green foliage above; creating something akin to a light show consisting of natural fluorescence. The light patterns bedazzled both the twig and pebble covered soil below, and the black hair and broad shirt covered shoulders of a tall man that stood on the forest floor. Clutching the bark of a possibly ancient Japanese Cypress tree, Cadence 'Hunter' Cahill stood at the edge of that forested section, his gaze now flowing over what seemed to be a wide, steady, and shallow stream, most commonly known as a Babbling Brook. The stream separated the more forested section of land that He stood on from another that was covered with a seemingly endless amount of fully bloomed cherry blossom trees instead of the more common Cypress; the occasional gust of wind blowing off small pedals of pink from the trees opposite to Cadence, some of the pedals being gently guided to the water itself, decorating its current with their near neon coloring. To His left, there was an old yet elegant red wooden bridge that connected the two masses of tree covered land, its curvature allowing the stream to pass harmlessly under its unique shape. A group of three children used the old red Bridge to play a game of soccer, clearly not paying any mind to the tall man that stood under canopy, judging the scenery before him.

Cadence stood motionless under the shadows of canopy above and the sunbeams that gently washed his body, taking the moment he had to breath in the atmosphere of this seemingly untouched part of Kyoto. This had been a person tradition of Cadence's since his childhood, going out to explore his surroundings, either to just escape from the world, or to help assess his current situation. Today, however, was for the former; while he had plenty to mentally rummage through when it came to his experience of either making Kyoto his new home, or making AFW into, as his admiral friend had referred to it, his "Hunting Grounds", Cadence just wanted to find an escape and possibly set up a "Getaway" spot for him to fallback to when times got stressful. The Babbling Brook he had been setting his gaze on for some time seemed to be a likely candidate for such a spot, as despite the familiar shapes of Kyoto's concrete gaurdians looming beyond the forest of cherry blossom trees, none of the sounds of the city's hustle and bustle had permeated the spots atmosphere; all he could hear were the gentle breeze, the soft current of the water below, the occasional chirp of a native bird, and the quiet laughter of children off to his left, and it all might have been the most calming experience Cadence had in years.

Taking in a deep breath, Cadence felt satisfied having found the small getaway, and mentally marked it as "Hunters Hollow", just for the mere fun of naming conventions; though he would have loved to stay, taking in the atmosphere of the brook, by his nature Cadence was a curious being, indulging in wandering and exploring different areas, so when his eyes had met with the cherry blossom forest beyond the stream, he knew where he was going to explore next. Letting go of the Cypress he had been clutching too in case he were to fall, the man gently slid down the small slope below the line of Cypress trees with his combat boots, sending a few loose stones cascading down into the stream before his boots aided in disrupting the Streams smooth current with a symphony of splashes.

Deeper into the sea of blooming cherry blossoms, at another red bridge overseeing the babbling brook, would be a different figure.

"Radical" Edward Sealgaire.

The 19 year old Tension wrestler, clad in a black tank top, matching jeans, hiking shoes and a red jacket, blonde hair pulled in a tight braided ponytail, took in a deep breath, and let out a contented sigh.

He. Loved. This.

Growing up in Scotland, with his father owning a distillery that used a natural river, Edward had always been used to living near nature, and as he lacked friends growing up, when he wasnt buried in his books of history and mythology, or watching anime or Doctor Who, he'd be wandering the streams, rivers, and woods near his home, often play acting fantasies of being Cúchulainn fighting in battles, or of the bold Fenian men, and their leader Finn, catching and cooking the Fish of Knowledge to gain its secrets.

Good times...well, except for when he got lost and Da would have to find him as it got dark out. That would be scary, sometimes VERY scary...but he couldn't stay away.

It had been sometime since he had done that, as his time in Japan had been spent either in school mostly, and after that, training and wrestling and little else. So when he had learned from Ryo that the cherry blossoms were in bloom, he, feeling a bit cooped up, decided to throw caution to the wind and go do some exploring.

Now, gazing around at the sights before him, hearing the babbling of the brook, the happy sound of kids playing soccer, the smell of trees and grass...he felt both elated to be in Japan...and a bit homesick for the hills and woods of home.

Luckily, he had a way of dealing with homesickness.

Sitting on the wooden armbar of the red bridge, Edward set his phone down on the wood, opening up his music player to find a pre-made backing track he had downloaded, and reached into his jacket to carefully pull out a carrying case, opening it up to reveal his most cherished item...an old flute.

Not just any flute, but a family heirloom, passed down from Ed's grandfather, who had played it to entertain his unit when he was in war, to his father, who had played it for the family and taught Edward about old songs and myths with it, and had gifted it to young Edward when he first left home.

His progress with it, while slow going at first, had improved over time, and he often found that when he was homesick, it greatly helped to be able to practice and play it, and get to learn the old folk songs that so entranced him while sitting on his father's lap.

Of course, given their place wasnt soundproofed, the neighbors eventually complained, as neighbors tend to do, so he figured today, why not practice outdoors? Who could mind a flute in a forest?

Thus, after selecting a track, he held the device up to his lips, and began to play "Mabon", the tune his father often played for him.Notes, starting soft and getting louder, beginning to play for anyone nearby to hear...