The Hunter and the Kitsune

"Jazz," Misha hissed, his fists turning into claws. When he saw the great sword pointed at him, he asked again, "Why?" His claws were hesitant to attack, and his lips were trembling.

Jazz didn't waver. He raised his sword, the gray flames licking hungrily at the blade's edge. "Stand back, Kitsune!"

"That's what I'm doing anyway," Misha said, stepping back with a grin. "And thank you for telling me I'm a kitsune because I didn't know," he rambled.

The garden trembled as Jazz took firm strides forward. The surviving bamboo trees burned like matches, their green foliage curling to ashes as the gray fire engulfed them.

"Alright, you've turned my garden into ashes," Misha said, hastening his retreat. "I want to clarify why I'm not attacking you, nor am I saying anything," he stated, his teeth clenched. In that instant, he barely evaded the gray wave of flames unleashed by Jazz.