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Finally, he had his revenge. It took three attempts, but, at last, that bearwalker died at the edge of Ashura's blade. Usually, Ashura's duels were never personal, but this... was different. The first duel ended when the coward shoved him off of a cliff. Ashura returned with vengeance, only to discover that the coward had coated his claws with poison... and then Ashura was forced to drag himself off of the same cliff in order to escape, for though he was not afraid of death, he refused to die retching and sweating. So, having failed to kill the bear twice, he returned a third time, ready for this cretin's dishonorable antics. He was greeted with a log trap, of all things, meant to knock him off of the same cliff. Were it not for his previous experience with log traps, thanks to that weasel, Kiyoraka Ashi, he may have fallen for it. Instead, he managed to leap onto the log as it swung towards him, and then descend upon his prey like a falcon diving a rat. With no more tricks to protect him, the bearwalker - arguably Ashura's greatest adversary, much to his dismay - was slain.

Several months had passed since this victory, and yet he was still as thrilled as though it happened yesterday. He really hated that bearwalker.

The scent of blood intruded on his pleasant thoughts, mingled with another, more sinister scent. There was only one creature that could leave such palpable malice in the air, and Ashura's tails swayed with excitement. His duels when he was in a good mood always seemed to end well. He strode forward with confidence, eager to meet a new challenger.

Unlike that bearwalker, Ashura was no coward. He made no effort to conceal his approach, sauntering without hesitation towards the bank of the stream in which the other walker bathed. He appreciated this diligent cleanliness - he did the same after each kill, usually. Walkers were a naturally combative species, and he felt no need to immediately engage this interesting canine. Its flecked pattern seemed to glow against its otherwise dark coat, matched only by that stone embedded in its throat...

Ashura's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. This was one of those stones about which he was warned, a potential threat to every purewalker - the remedy to purewalker malignancy. The corners of lips twitched, as if he were about to smile. Had his master known of these stones, perhaps his life would have been quite different. He may have, in fact, managed to rectify Ashura the way he intended. There was no dampening the inherent malevolence of purewalkers without one of these stones - so he was told. Evidently, his master was ignorant of this knowledge.

Ashura also knew that no skinwalkers were born with these stones. His tails began flicking with interest as he watched the stone twinkle like another star on this walker's pelt. He realized that, though they stood before each other, neither had made moves to engage the other. His eyes flicked up to meet the glowing gaze of the canine, more stars of his constellation. Perhaps the stones operated as intended, and this walker's instinctive nature was inhibited. Ashura doubted that it had a background similar to his: years of rigorous, disciplined training from the time he was a mere foal until his adulthood when he finally surpassed his master that forced him to learn how to control his savagery to some degree. He was still a killer, and an extremely effective one at that.

However, he also understood the value of information, and these walkers with stones were not, in his mind, as ideal challengers as unadultered purewalkers. Furthermore, these stones remained a threat to him, despite his age. So, it would be wise to exercise some restraint and speak to this unfortunate walker before engaging in a duel, no? The logic made sense to him. This time, his lips did twitch into a faint smile.

"How did this happen to you?"

He only chuckled at the other walker's terse response. Did he hit a nerve? Maybe he was still combative after all, or was that just a personality flaw? He certainly seemed perturbed, as nonchalance gave way to disdain. "Relax," he began, sitting down at the edge of the stream, "Did you not get your beauty sleep?" It probably was not wise to rib such a sensitive Soquili - a sensitive skinwalker, at that - but Ashura could not resist. He knew how to chaff like regular Soquili, having been well trained in pleasantries and concealing his sinister nature; after all, he was forced to live peacefully amongst a herd for years of his life until he was finally old enough and prepared to take them down. He did not prefer to be manipulative and deceiving, but he would resort to it if the situation demanded it. However, this was no ordinary Soquili. This was a purewalker, like himself, and he knew the extent of evil of which they were capable. Ashura did not intend to fool him into thinking that he was some redeemed skinwalker, for that would be an impossible lie to sell; he just needed to convince him that he meant him no harm, that knowledge was more valuable than violence. It could be pleasant, if the other canine wanted, and, unfortunately, Ashura was also persistent. He would get what he wanted, whether it be conversation or combat, one way or the other. Something about this walker felt conflicted, even hesitant, to some degree. The kitsune wanted to know more about this stone and what it had done to the dog.

"I'm not going anywhere. You're the most interesting thing that's come my way in a while." Though there was a degree of threat to his words, his body language told a different tale. He was relaxed, almost unusually blithe, especially when facing another walker. It was not the charm that fed his confidence; this was just Ashura's personality. He was prepared for an attack, as always. Speed was on his side, and he was more than capable of proving himself in combat. He had no fear in his heart, which fueled a confidence that bordered arrogance - and arrogant he would be, if his competence did not speak for itself.

The white walker also did not move, dismissing the dog's words. "You know, for someone who just ate, you seem very unhappy." He briefly glanced at the stone on his throat again. "I thought those rocks were supposed to make us nice." More jests to test the other's patience, to see if he meant it when he said he did not want to fight. That was unnatural of a skinwalker. "Get real," he scoffed, "do you think I'd waste time talking if all I wanted was a fight?" That was surprisingly true. Even though he always welcomed a fight, if that was his desire, he would have engaged the other walker the moment he saw him. Ashura prided himself on his efficiency.

"I believe it - and they're probably better company, too." It was curious that, despite how strongly the dog wished to be alone, he had not walked away. He likely knew better than to turn his back on a walker; however he should have been able to defend himself if he expected an attack after walking away. He should have some amount of confidence in his own fighting ability, especially considering he had a weight advantage on the kitsune. Ashura was tall, but rather lean. He did not have the kind of mass some the other walker species carried: the dogs, wolves, gators, bears, in particular.

This dog intrigued him more every minute that passed, as Ashura continued reading into his actions - or inaction, rather. He knew better than to put too much faith in his analysis, for the dog could still surprise him. For now, though, he had no evidence to the contrary.

"You know the fastest ways to get rid of me," he teased, alluding to either exchanging words or blows with the kitsune. The decision was the dog's.

The smug smirk remained on Ashura's face as the dog conceded. Tenacity was key, and Ashura rarely was the one to yield in any fight. He could count the number of times with his tails, if he disregarded his master's training in his youth. His master had beaten the walker into submission countless times before Ashura began to learn.

The dog was exhausted, and it was not from the verbal sparring. He looked like he really needed that beauty sleep... It took a few moments for the walker to collect himself, and he opened his eyes, his defensive vitality spent.

Now, the smile faded from Ashura's maw. "How anticlimactic," he stated plainly. "You really spent all that time fighting me when this is your answer?" He could feel wrath bubbling in his chest, but he managed to contain it. "You must be joking." The white walker hated jokes.

Although, he should have suspected that the stone would result in retrograde amnesia. He sighed as well. "What about life before and after this event? Do you remember that much?" Those were going to be his follow up questions regardless of the dog's initial response, and he did not see the point in wasting any more time.

"Yeah, I can see that," Ashura grumbled. The dog was neither joking or lying, and the kitsune noticed that the dog appeared rather subdued. It made his skin crawl, seeing such a powerful creature in such a sorry state.

His word choice was curious, as it told Ashura that, apparently, he was not fond of the rock. "Cursed thing, hm? Not your style?" The jests should have indicated that Ashura was deducing the meaning behind the other walker's words. It seemed as though the dog had a history, and charming was an unwelcome turning point. Even though Ashura was not too interested in his history for what it was, he did want to know exactly how the rock had altered him - if it really did tame him. It certainly would make sense, given the other walker's rather pathetic appearance now that Ashura had broken past his guard. Perhaps Ashura would have pitied him, if he had the capacity for such emotions; after all, Ashura certainly did not want to end up like this poor dog.

The dog finally questioned Ashura's interest, and it surprised him that he had waited so long to do so. He held the dog's gaze for a moment before sauntering closer to the other walker. As he approached, his eyes fell from the other walker's face to the glowing blue charm in his throat. "It seems that thing is the greatest threat to my existence," he finally stated as he came to a halt, no more than a pace separating the two walkers. "There is no one out there who can contest me." It was a bold claim, but true based on his experience. Even though he had lost battles, Ashura defeated every one of his adversaries. He was a fine-tuned machine, and he wielded his blade with surgical precision. Disciplined, adept, and efficient, he was a force to be reckoned with, and no one alive could say that they had bested the white kitsune. He made sure of that.

He continued eyeing the charm with a look of both morbid fascination and contempt. "That rock is the only thing that exists with the potential to take me down. And yet-" he reached out and tapped the dog's charm with a claw in a single smooth and swift action- "I'm interested in its uses..."

What use could a walker have for an Angeni charm? To tame another walker, of course. Genichiro's weakness was that his instincts prevented him from achieving the same level of discipline as Ashura. The same instincts that Ashura believed made him the ultimate weapon were the instincts he wished to temper in his apprentice, and he did not recognize this irony at the time.