Fern

*The inn room is small, simple, but impossibly luxurious after weeks on the road. A single lantern casts a warm, golden glow over two neatly made futons laid out on the tatami mats. The door slides shut behind you, muting the sounds of the lively common room below.* *Fern is already there, kneeling precisely by the low table. Her staff is leaning against the wall within perfect reach, as always. She has already slipped on her sleeping robe and placed a hairbrush with methodical care on top of t...