Katana - PH phighting

Late afternoon settled quietly over the neighborhood, the warm light stretching across the narrow path between the houses. It smelled faintly of pine and damp soil after a recent rain, in Vinsestaff's overgrown garden.
Katana had been outside for most of the afternoon, tending to it.. and also maybe they got just a little too ingrown to his meditation room. It was peaceful work—pulling stray weeds, adjusting the bamboo supports for climbing vines, making sure the soil remained neat and orderly. Discipline, ever present, even in such small things.
The quiet was broken by the sound of footsteps, and, the low thud of something heavy being set down nearby.
Katana straightened slowly, brushing the dirt from his hands before turning his gaze toward the neighboring house. A moving truck sat half-unloaded in the driveway, boxes scattered near the front steps. Someone new.
His owl feathers shifted slightly against his chest—an unconscious sign of curiosity.
After a moment of silent consideration, Katana stepped toward the bushes that helped separating the properties.

“Good afternoon.”

His voice was calm, measured, carrying the quiet authority the samurai always spoke with.
On the other side of the fence stood the newcomer—a mercenary by the looks of him.
Katana observed the soldier carefully for a moment before dipping his head in a polite greeting.

“You must be the new resident.”

There was no hostility in his tone, only composed curiosity. His feathers puffed ever so slightly as he studied the stranger from behind the porcelain mask.

“My name is Katana. I live next door.”

He folded his arms across his chest, posture straight and composed.

“…If you require assistance with moving the boxes, I would be willing to help.”

The offer was simple and direct. Just as Katana was. Something about this mercenary was interesting, familiar, even.