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((Note: Ninetails uses the pronouns it/they normally. Uses feminine pronouns when impersonating Rao.))

Ninetails set down its mask. Its sword lay there too, inert and harmless without its master to wield it. It felt deconstructed without its attire, but then, that was the whole point of this process.

It washed itself in the waters of the river next. With its paws, it combed through papery fur, dislodging bits of debris and clumps that had grown tangled. Flakes of dried blood dissipated into the water as well. Meticulously, Ninetails cleansed itself over and under. It didn't emerge from the water until its tails hung heavy with wetness.

As it began to dry, it moved to its next step. It stripped fresh pine needles off low-hanging boughs and rubbed itself with them. The waxy coating of the needles clung to its fur, smoothing it down and making it sleeker and less wild looking. The scent of the pine overlaid its canine musk with mountainous freshness. Patiently, Ninetails carried out this task. Then, it was time for the more obvious parts of its costume.

The purple garment that went over its body came on first. It wasn't easy to put on the clothes, being an activity far more suited to humans or the equally dextrous raccoons than a soquili. However, Ninetails was well practiced in dressing itself.

One by one, pieces of clothing made their way onto its body. Slowly, Ninetails covered up the features that made it most clearly a skinwalker. The border between pelt and hide was hidden. Long trailing purple sleeves were a disguise for paws, and a hood over its head masked yet more unnatural features. The last part was what Ninetails felt the most proud of, a sweep of false bangs to fall over its face, making it appear to be a coy mutant rather than a murderous beast.

Now it was no longer itself. Now, it was Tsuzurao. It took a breath. The menace began to fade from its posture. It held its paws so the claws were less evident. It lowered its tails, letting them settle in a mass on the ground, much less fearsome than the way it usually held them arrayed in the air. It was no longer Ninetails. She was Rao. The impersonation was complete.

Rao chuckled darkly to herself, looking at her reflection in the water. The false bangs hid her missing eye well. No one would be able to tell that she was disfigured. Even her scarred legs were completely covered by the sleeves adorning them. There were few that would be able to tell she was a skinwalker when she was like this. Throughout her life, she had realized that soquili saw what they wanted to see. No one wanted to encounter a skinwalker, so were happy to accept the explanation that she was simply a harmless mutant instead. There were more and more soquili with paws around these days. That just helped with the illusion.

With task complete, Rao began to walk away. Luckily for Rosemary, Rao didn't notice her. She was entirely preoccupied with her transformation and with finding the voice of Rao within herself, resisting the urges to maim and destroy. Killing soquili one by one was fun and satisfying, yes, but so much could be done by craft and manipulation. A herd could only be chipped away from the outside. From within, it could be destroyed.

The demon left the riverside, heading forward to dark plans.

~Fin.