Wara ningyō

Hattori was not a man who believed in superstition or that putting together a straw wolf would do any good to ward off evil, but his people's traditions were very important to him. And after the Long Night he saw no reason to not indulge in this, that no harm would come from it if he was any more fortunate than he used to be. The Steppes were hardly bustling, but he was quick to notice the flitting figures of familiars as they moved behind the towering stones. The area was neat and orderly, tools and straw available should one need it, but Hattori had come prepared, all he needed gathered in a little satchel clutched between his teeth. Rice straw, thin bamboo shoots and short lengths of rope to tie it all together.  He could have used the items provided, but he thought better of it, wanted to do it his own way, leaving Tojo's mark behind despite being so far from its borders.

He got to work quietly, ignored the others as he turned his back to them and went about empting out his bag and spreading his materials out against the ancient stone. He knew of the cellar beneath and idly wondered if the familiars had raided it to gather what little they hadn't brought along themselves. Either way, it didn't matter to him nor did it to whoever had once claimed the cellar as their own. They were long gone and thus who were they to complain?

He started with sorting the rice straw into strands, longest to shortest before bending them into shape. It was quiet, thoughtful work, and Hattori was quick to fall into a sombre contemplation. Back home, so far away, these were believed to be able to ward away evil as well as inflict curses. All depending upon the intention of those who made them. Nails and fur for curses, and well wishes and placement upon roadsides for protection.

His work transitioned into a vague shape of a wolf, four limbs a tail and a long snout. It was a start, but not quite what he had in mind, not good enough to be called a final product yet. He twisted the rope around the base of the tail, tugged it tight to keep the bundle in shape, and bit off the extra length he did not need. The limbs were spindlier than he would have liked, too weak to stand on their own, so he moved to bundle more straw together and pushed them together with enough force and delicacy that it was impossible to separate the old from the new.

He was not a craftsman by any means, but he supposed his particularness had its merits. He would not call it quits till he was content with the end result, would even start again if need be. But fortunately his slow, tried and tested method of working was an effective one. One limb was bundled together and then the next and the next after that, till the wolf had four legs and a tail.

He couldn't help but remember a time his sire had found a straw wolf in his private chambers. Perhaps not to leave a curse behind, but rather a warning, a threat that his life was in danger. It amounted to little in the end, the culprit being a servant paid off by a rival house to try and get under the Lord's skin (both were put to death), but the memory remained in Hattori's mind as he worked all the same. A day long since passed and one he did not wish to see happen again, would not happen again as long as he continued to rule as he did. Firm but fair.

Was that the true purpose of these dolls then? Not to work any magic or curses, to call upon a deity and hope for fortune but to offer a threat? To make a stand against the supposed supernatural?  Hattori hummed thoughtfully as he crafted the straw wolf's snout, finding he agreed with such a line of thought. This was Hattori drawing his line in the sand, making it certain and undeniable that the events of last year would not repeat themselves once more. So much had changed since then and he would not allow things to regress, to become worse than they ever were.

Seeing his work done, Hattori gently picked up the straw wolf and left it behind on the little altar. His not so different from the rest, but neat and tidy, rope pulled taut and blocky in shape, as was customary of wara ningyō. He turned to leave, to return the way he'd come and fade back into the shadows of his bamboo. A fortress of his own making, where the outside world and its unknowns were not welcome to tread.