On the other side, the enchanting and dangerously alluring Vixen Queen Camillo, the eight-tailed fox spirit, was suddenly swallowed by a swirling storm of peach blossom petals.
Layer upon layer of soft pink drifted around her, wrapping her form until she seemed to flicker in and out of sight, half-hidden behind a veil of blossoms. The air grew thick with their fragrance, sweet and intoxicating, almost enough to dull the senses.
Camillo moved within it all as if she were part of the storm itself.
Every step she took was light, every turn of her body fluid and deliberate. The petals followed her, dancing in rhythm with her movements, as though drawn to her presence.
Her full, graceful figure, her soft features reminiscent of blooming peach blossoms, and the natural charm she exuded made it impossible to look away. Wrapped in that haze of drifting petals, she seemed less like a creature of flesh and more like a spirit born from spring itself.
A goddess of blossoms.
