Having ascended from a beast to a mountain lord, Horang's lowly origins meant he was disregarded by the other lords. Watching over his mountain in solitude--with a squirrel named Ttorang as his sole companion--one day a letter carrying words of marriage arrives, addressed to Horang.
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In the early dawn, Horang woke feeling a bit cold. Summer had just passed, so the days were very hot, but the nights were very cold. Especially deep in the forest, the seasons changed quickly and the cold of the night was quite strong.
He had woken up only a little while ago so there was no way he would fall asleep so soon. Horang tossed and turned where he lay and wished the fox would leave. But perhaps because the fox really had no intention of leaving, the gaze on Horang’s back didn’t ease in the slightest.
“Tomorrow I'll get the salt and use it, so just leave.”
Horang said a bit sardonically. His pride was wounded, and he was angry; his initial plan to just ignore the fox had gone awry. The spirit barrier he had put down was no good, only proving to make himself a laughingstock.