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The two of them were on their way to a traveling merchant that was stopping by the village today, it was a man that Jing Lin knew and often bought large amounts of uncut jade from. In the pack on his back was a small statue of a dragon and phoenix that Jing Lin had created for the merchant, it took care of a good portion of the price of what the merchant asked for because he would take the statues Jing Lin made to larger cities to turn around and sell them for a profit.

All in all they both made out rather well in the deals monetarily that they had going between the two of them, "Come on, Bai Mei. I want to be the first one there so that we don't have to deal with many people." Jing Lin urged his son, he had a rather strange relationship with most people of the village. They would come to him for his skills when it came to jade sculpting but when it came to socializing they avoided him like a plague. For some reason they had taken it to heart that he was a fox spirit and as such didn't trust him to highly. Less so since he'd suddenly started to appear with a son at his side, something they thought proved that he was a fox.

He did his best to ignore them but that they were starting to bother Bai Mei as well from time to time, accusing him of being everything from a fox pup to a spirit which made it a little tough for him to make friends. He'd met with a couple other children, all girls thus far, Song Tzue and Gui. Those meetings had gone well which he found nice, that he could at least have a couple friends.

"I'm coming!" Bai Mei chirped, looking from side to side as he walked, inspecting the area around him, the people, and he took in all the details around him. He'd started to pick up on even the smallest of details of late, something he figured was a part of having an artist for a father. The way that the man seemed to study everything in detail so that he could then sketch it and carve it into a beautiful jade sculpture.

He paused mid step as he heard a voice demanding that someone give back his flute and he found himself looking around until he spotted where the voice had come from. He blinked then took a step in that direction, finding that for some reason he didn't understand the one trying to get the flute back seemed familiar. Not a person he'd ever met before and he didn't think he'd even seen him in passing but he felt familiar in the same way that Song Tzue had felt familiar when they had first met, how he'd felt instantly comfortable around her.

"T-That's not nice! You should give it back!" He told the older boy from where he stood, trying his best to sound brave though he was shaking in his shoes. He was a bit of a klutz so he wouldn't exactly be useful in a fight so he could only hope the guy didn't decide to round on him and beat him up for putting his nose into business that wasn't his.

Cackling, the older boy would always raise his arms just as Yoru’s fingers grazed against his important flute. So close, yet so far. After a few more attempts at grabbing the instrument, he stamped his foot in frustration, ready to throw a childish tantrum. “Please, give my flute back!” he pleaded a second time, just about frantic now.

Other than the clothes on his back, Yoru’s flute was his most precious item. Not only did Byeoung-Keon kindly buy it for him, music was his sole hobby. Although he had never been familiar with the concept of music after he was “born”, after spying the shining instrument lounging on a display stand he was immediately attracted to it. Just seeing it made him feel nostalgic, even when he blew his first notes it felt like a sense of déjà vu washed over him and he wasn’t sure why.

He heard a familiar voice—familiar? But far as he knew, he had never heard it until now—and turned to spot a white-haired lad coming to his rescue. Supposedly.

“Yeah, and who’s gonna make me?” retorted the bigger child, poking his tongue out at the newcomer as he stubbornly waved the flute high in the sky.

Yoru bit his lip, hatefully glaring at the lanky boy. “It’s not yours! So give it back!” he protested, grunting and struggling to reach for the flute as the other lad easily held him back by placing his hand on his head.

“Yeah? And why should I?” he responded, laughing.

“Oh?” The boy turned towards the new voice—another voice that Yoru recognized, but never heard before. “Really? You think so?” He teased, roughly pushing Yoru back and stepping towards the green-haired child, idly twirling it in his nimble fingers.

The pine child’s gaze flickered to Bai Mei and she gave him a reassuring smile to let him know that she would take care of this. She would not allow either boy get hurt if it came to a scuffle. It felt as thought she had something to prove; she needed to protect them or else she would never be able to live with herself.

Song Tzue’s gaze refocused on the bully, her lips tightening into a thin angry line when he shoved Yoru aside. “Do you find joy in hurting others smaller than you?” She didn’t hesitate but stepped even closer until there was only a foot of space between them. “Pathetic.”

She shifted her stance so that it would be harder for her to loose her balance. “Yes, I think you’ll regret this very much. I’ll give you one last chance to hand the flute over before I make you pay for bullying my friends.”

Bai Mei was glad to heard that the other boy was going to be alright, he gave him a smile, "I am glad that your alright." He wasn't sure why but a part of him had been so worried for this boy, worried that something bad might happen to him at the hands of the bully. Of course as he turned to look toward the older boy he felt the same sort of worry now for Song Tzue since she seemed quite determined to take the older boy on single handedly.

"Ahh... I am worried for Song Tzue." He murmured to himself, moving a little closer to the action even though everything inside of him was saying that they should all just flee together, that they needed to run away from this child who seemed to be having such a fun time in bullying people smaller then he was. A soft gasping sound escaped from his lips as the older boy actually lifted a hand to give Song Tzue a push. That wasn't nice at all, picking on a girl like that! He wanted to do... something but he couldn't really think of anything, seeming to be spacing off completely at the moment on what the best course of action might be.

"W-What should we do?" He murmured, his question posed to Yoru, as though he would have a good idea.

Song Tzue. That was the girl’s name, Yoru wordlessly noted. His melon green eyes turned to stare at the boy with long, light-colored hair. After a few seconds of pondering the lotus child finally asked the question that had managed to plague his mind in a matter of seconds. “My name’s Yoru. What’s yours?”

He shrugged at his question, continuing to helplessly stand from afar and observe the spat between the two other kids. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to help. I wouldn’t be of much use anyways,” he replied sourly, disappointed with his apparent lack of strength.

The boy never saw it coming. As the girl’s small yet powerful fist smashed into his face, he yelped, though doggedly continued to hold onto the flute as he was throttled to the ground. He took in a sharp breath as he rubbed at his wounded cheek, one eye closed. Scowling, he roughly threw the flute at Song Tzue. “If you want the stupid flute, take it!” he snapped and quickly scrambled to run away from the trio.

As soon as the bully released his hold on the flute, Yoru immediately leapt forward to grab onto the flute. Tightly clutched in his hands, he held it to his chest. “Th-Thank you . . .” he mumbled shyly.

There was a satisfying crunch as Song Tzue’s fist collided with the boys face. She dropped her hand and glowered right back at him, her gaze threatening more to come before he tossed the flute aside and set off down the street. The Pine girl waited until he was out of sight before she sighed, relaxing from her tense stance. The frown melted away and became a triumphant grin, which she gave to Yoru.

“That’s okay. I’m glad I could get it back to you.” She was delighted to have protected both Yoru and Bai Mei from the bully. It proved to her that she could be their protector. As her hand was taken up in Bai Mei’s grasp, she smiled at him and let him inspect her hand. It was a little red and the her knuckles were a little sore from the blow, but it was nothing. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

She didn’t let Bai Mei’s hand escape, holding one in her own and reaching the other out for Yoru. “My name is Song Tzue.” The three of them here felt right. They belonged together. And even though they had never met... “It’s good to see you again.” It was like a long awaited meeting.

Pleased with the results of his inspection finding only that Song Tzue had some slightly reddened knuckles Bai Mei allowed himself to relax. He wasn't sure why but he didn't seem to care for the three of them getting swept up into any sort of violent confrontation as it just seemed to make his stomach turn. Now that it was over though he was feeling more at peace then he ever had before this moment.

It was a really nice sensation, a content one, being here with Song Tzue and Yoru, something just felt right about it, as though he'd been waiting a long time for them to meet up again. He was sure that he hadn't met Yoru before today but at the same time he felt that he had. Something about him resonated with Bai Mei making it feel as though he were meeting with an old friend after an extended time apart instead of meeting someone new.

At mention of who they were here with Bai Mei blinked a couple times, the spell over him seeming to break as he set to searching the area for Jing Lin, "Ahh... oops... I forgot all about my Father." He said, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment. He had wanted to hurry over to Yoru despite the fact that Bai Mei wasn't exactly a fighter by any stretch of the imagination, "Hes probably talking with the merchant, I will catch up with him on his way back." He decided, his father had been hurrying forward to make the trade with the merchant before he got busy. Jing Lin had no love of crowds hence them being out early.