Assuming he was referring to the Tavern keeper, Kitsune nodded in his direction. A blessed creature she was indeed, with many talents.
"Our host is most gracious, and provides us with whatever we wish for. I have not been fortunate enough to visit a place such as this in all my years", he said, coughing slightly at the grey mist that seemed to encircle his erstwhile companion. He had seen such things before of course, but did not partake. Sake was his only vice, and then only sparingly. Too many tales of warriors taken in their drunken slumber by the cursed ninja. He had eaten his last dumpling, leaving two, his belly full and warm. He could have finished the meal easily, his hunger a living thing, but he did not want to appear a glutton to the woman, and he had, in truth, had his fill.
And if he understood him correctly, Marty was indeed right about her. She was a sight to behold. And each time he looked at her, a wave of peace seemed to wash through him, a silent song of joy. She surely had been blessed by the gods, and although he was unsure of her motives, the feeling of safety and reassurance he had prevented any thoughts of dark intentions.
Kitsune stood, unsure of where she had gone, but the smells drifting through the room told him that another of his wishes had been granted. Surely there was no end to the surprises this woman was capable of! Turning to the pinstriped gaijin, he bowed slightly,
"Sir, I will take my leave of you now, I believe our host has prepared even more gifts for us. If my nose does not mistake me, I have a hot bath to look forward to. Perhaps we will speak again, but for now, please excuse me", followed by another gentle bow.
As he turned to leave, the door of the tavern swung open and another man entered. He seemed disoriented and had certainly had too much sake. His garb, although different to the clothes this Marty wore, were again unfamiliar, his hair tangled as if he hadn't washed for several days, rips in his clothing. Had he been in a battle? Kitsune saw no blood. And what was this pizza he spoke of? Having already decided to seek out the source of the enticing smells he had discovered, he bowed respectfully to the new arrival.
"Good day Sir, if you will excuse me, I am about to retire," followed by another curt bow.
Turning silently, he padded along a timber corridor, the smell of sake now reaching his finely tuned senses, leading him towards a large panel which he slid open gently. Within he saw spirals of steam drifting upwards from a large bath, soap bubbles popping softly, the metal gleaming in the low light of the flickering fire. In another part of the room a large bed, gods be praised! And the comfort it seemed to offer was another delight to look forward to. The decoration of the room was immaculate, indistinguishable from any of the fine homes he had visited when paying his respects to the Feudal lords he served.
Making sure to close the panel behind him, Kitsune drew the sheathed swords at his hip from his belt, laying them reverently on a nearby table. He would be sure to move them closer to the bath before he entered. Caution always. And then began the well practiced, almost automatic ritual of removing his armour and robes. Unlacing each plate one at a time, almost as if a lizard was shedding its scales. The grime soaked cloth of his under shirt and leggings was a testament to how long had passed since he had last been able to cleanse himself. Finally, having removed the last of his clothing, leaving it in a pile beside the bath, he lifted himself up and into the steaming water, the heat taking his breath away at first, but, as he gently lowered himself into the warmth, he let out a long, guttural sigh, the scalding liquid immediately soothing his taut muscles. He sank, the depth of the water more than enough to cover his entire body, his tail flicked to one side, and just lay there, floating, the water soaking his fur, and he could feel his weariness drifting away.