Has been how long? Hours? Days? The kid's body was still adjusting to this new residence, most of the trip here he had been sleeping and the little time he spent awake was to sketch what looked like a small manga, and now he was working on finishing it. The days he had to pretend to be human seemed gone, today he was here, wearing what looked like an alternate to shrine clothes, white with red accents, a black randoseru on his back, tail swishing as he walked towards the shadow of a tree.
Once he found a comfortable spot, he would rest on the ground, back against the tree, and the backpack by his side. From it he pulled a plastic bag with pages of the manga he had sketched, a thin brush, fist-sized ink bottle, and a water bottle for him to drink. Though clouds hid the sun, he knew not to leave the shades of a tree, as the reflection of the sun could make it harder to ink the sketches, and so he would continue, working on a small manga about a boy who went on an adventure in the sea.
Once he found a comfortable spot, he would rest on the ground, back against the tree, and the backpack by his side. From it he pulled a plastic bag with pages of the manga he had sketched, a thin brush, fist-sized ink bottle, and a water bottle for him to drink. Though clouds hid the sun, he knew not to leave the shades of a tree, as the reflection of the sun could make it harder to ink the sketches, and so he would continue, working on a small manga about a boy who went on an adventure in the sea.