misanthropic drunken loner

Hattori knew the value of the Shrine to those who worshipped the fallen God, that Toxicity would no doubt return one day to attempt to claim what she perceived as hers. Would she fail once again and sulk back into the shadows? Or would her efforts force the Shogun's paw, to draw a line in the sand that could never be unwritten? The future held so many uncertainties, questions he could only guess the answers too.

Even at this late hour, when the world was quiet and still, Hattori was quick to notice the disturbance at the border. Remaining downwind, he moved amongst the shadows the fiery orange of his coat subdued by the clouds blotting out the light of the moon. Prepared to use force if necessary, Hattori paused as he noted the soft purple of the yearlings coat. Pontifex. Not someone he knew well, but the few times they'd spoken hadn't forced the Shogun to write him off as a religious nut, a lost cause like his Mother. As such, the Shogun was willing to show the boy a degree of leniency he might not offer an outright stranger. Whatever the boy had to say, Hattori would listen.

Catching the pebble beneath a dark paw, the Shogun showed himself. Slow and deliberate, so as not to take Pontifex too unaware.

"What brings you here?" Hattori asked, blunt and to the point but not unkind. Never without reason, at least.