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life !”
    “Indeed.”
    Sura rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“ So you don’t like badgers. Well why don’t you entertain us, mighty paragon?”
    Kuno was immediately ple ased. He smoothed his moustache.
“ Certainly. This is a poem from my first volume of collected works. I call it… “Butterfly.”
    Sura felt a sudden sinking in the pit of her stomach.
    “ Wait wait wait – your first volume…?”
    “The first of three.” Kuno recited from memory, his voice taking on a deep, grand note.
     
     
    “ See the butterfly
    Bright wings flutter up and down.
    Flap flap flap – Pretty.”
     
    Sura blinked – her brain almost went into total seizure.
“Wow. Those tournament guys are going to pound you into the dirt…”
    She shook her head and walked on. Drawing up his dignity, Kuno did not deign to answer. He kept on with his planned route, trying to ignore the fox as she told jokes and sang all through the long day’s trek.
    Behind them, Tonbo marched along, quite content with his day.
     
     
    In the evening, they camped themselves in a quiet little dell just to the side of the main road. In theory, there should have been a village up along the road ahead, but as evening fell, there was still no sign of inns or houses. And so they made their way off between some trees, where a huge old oak spread its boughs above a soft, plush carpet of leaves.
    Tonbo had an eye for fi nding comfort in the wilderness. It was a place with soft breeze, shelter, and no particularly irritating insects. Kuno sat himself down, pulled off his armour, and made himself comfortable for the night. He disassembled his sword to give it a deeply thorough cleansing – suspicious that the monster’s blood might have somehow have crept into nooks and crannies. While he worked, Tonbo made a fire, then walked off to fill their canteens at a stream.
    After a long, long walk, it was wonderful to indulge in the simple pleasures of the camp. Sura flaked in the grass for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet. But soon she stirred herself, drew out a pot, and wandered off into the woods to forage. She came back sometime later looking quite pleased with herself. She set a pot full of water over the fire and busied herself shaking in salt and spices.
    The fox cut up what seemed to be a number of unwashed vegetables and mushrooms. She threw the entire collection into the pot – along with a handful of grass. Kuno finally took notice. He sniffed the air. The scent of Sura’s cooking was decidedly odd.
    Tonbo came back from his explorations, carrying a bundle of firewood. He saw Sura at the cooking pot, and flicked a glance to Kuno.
    “You let her cook?”
    Sura too k great exception to the remark. She brandished the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the stew. “There’s no need to complain! I can cook!”
    “And when did this miracle occur?”
    Sura stood with one fist upon her hip. “I can cook anything with legs!” She gave a wave of her spoon. “When the legs stop moving, it’s done.”
    It had been a long time since the midday meal. Kuno finished wiping clean his sword and looked over to Sura.
    “Sura san – how long until dinner is ready?”
    Sura thoughtfully plunged her spoon into the pot. She came up with what looked like several large beetles, all of which madly wriggled their legs.
    “Aaaah – it might take a while.”
    Kuno decidedly lost his appetite.
    “I believe I will just have the rice.”
    A fly came buzzing through the evening light. Sura’s spear had been stuck into the ground, point uppermost, with the sheath carelessly left on the ground beside it. The fly blundered into the blade, and simply fell in two – both halves dropping into the rice pot. Kuno put a hand over his stomach.
    “Then again – perhaps a salad might do…”
    Tonbo glowered at Sura, and nudged at her spear sheath with his foot.
    “I have told you before – keep the sheath on your weapon.”
    “Hey – I love my little hoko yari! My little