trust me, this is an intellect seasonal

Hattori rumbled in confirmation. "It is beautiful, though where I grew up bamboo was not native to that area. The leaves were red and orange all year round, as vivid as my coat. There were even cherry blossom petals that were the same colour as your paws,"  he noted, how soft and pink they were. A result of her albinism.

It reminded him of his Mother, her pelt had been pale and ghostly, though he didn't suppose he would ever see her again. The last they had spoken she had been getting on in years, elegant and beautiful still of course, but time waited for no one and it had been so long. She would have returned by now if she could, so he could only hope that she'd found peace wherever she was.  

He exhaled slowly, noticing the tension gathering in his shoulders.

"Your Grandmother was called Kiyo. You resemble her, though you are far more pale. In marrying my Father, she became the mistress of Iga. It is an ancient place, stood long before my kin claimed it as their own. Wooden structures and bridges over rivers, Torii gates marking pathways.  It was a hard place to describe, his words didn't do it any justice.