Basics
Race: Human (Tainted)
Sex: Male
Height: around 5'10"

A former Kuni witch hunter,  now bound to the word of the shadowlands. Jinzo is known for his prowess in hunting those with magical ability and has come to enjoy the hunt specifically when it comes down to the kitsune. With a maniacal glee he takes great joy in skinning a kitsune alive and chopping off it's tail to add to his collection. What he is doing here now in all places like Sinifer is unknown, though it could be the increased fox population.

Appearance:  Of Rokugani heritage his pale face is painted with strange red markings, his smile is disturbing to say the least. A cruel mix of glee with the undeniable feeling of dread as he stares one down to assess their looks, constantly on the search for a fox in disguise.

~~~~~~~~A hunt~~~~~~~~
She was just about out of breath. Running for, she wasn't sure how long now. He was there, the leaves crunching underfoot and always behind her, in pursuit. She didn't want to look back. She knew that face would be there, looking back at her, if she did. Pale and painted like some kind of demon. She had thought nothing of it when she saw him in the street but he was here, now, hunting her. A whistle in the wind sounded just before a sudden sting bit into the back of her thigh, causing her to tumble. She peered down to see the barbed and ragged arrowhead pierced through her flesh, coated in a thick layer of her blood with small strips of her skin hanging from the gory tip. The echoing sounds of his laughter bounced off the trees through her sensitive ears, sending shivers through her body. She tried to force her leg to stand but only managed a hunched and limping gait. As fast as she was able, she tried to outpace her stalker. Yet he kept coming. As if teasing her efforts with his measured pace. Another whistle cried out and another arrow struck its mark. Cold pain radiated from her center. She stopped to grip the arrowhead that had forced through her stomach. Blood leaked, heavily, from the jagged wound and a smell that could only originate from the intestines seeped into the air around her. She slumped to the ground, the shaft of the arrow preventing her from laying on her back. As her vision began to fade out, a pair of red boots sauntered into her sight. Then her eyes slipped closed.

Vision came back to her in small bursts. No longer was she in tall grass and the world swayed to and fro. The warm drip of her own blood fell onto her face and rolled into her eye. The sudden awareness of hanging upside down came to her. Panic gave her a sudden burst of energy as she began to struggle against her bonds but it was of no use. The ropes bit into her flesh where there had once been soft clothing covering her. Her eyes lit on the bloody cloth, laying in shreds, far from her swaying body. The, ever-tightening, rope circled above her onto a tree branch. The move to look around sent her slowly twirling about as more and more awareness came to her. The scent of cooking meat and the crackling of flame filtered into her senses and filled the quiet air around her. Slowly, a shape came into sight. Lit by the flames of the campfire lighting the area before her. She jerked in her bonds and struggled harder upon seeing that face. It was just smiling at her. Sinister for its lack of empathy. His mouth twisted into a grin that displayed a pleased and pleasant state. His eyes left her to continue, calmly, cooking his meal. Her left hand reached, instinctively, for the ropes, and began to tug in an attempt to loosen her bonds. Her right arm was dead to all sensation. No feeling in it remained. Mayhap due to the fall or the bindings. Either way all she felt was a painful numbness.

Her vision cleared further, as she watched him begin to eat his meal. Sucking the meat off of thin bones with a sickening slurp, as he sat, looking at her. His cheerful expression shone through eyes that glinted with the reflection of the fire. Tossing aside the bones to the grass, he rose up from his seat, licking the juices from his fingers. With the same measured stride, of his hunt, he strolled toward her. Her body jolted in fear as he reached a hand up, with a wickedly curved blade clasped within. Slowly, he brought it down and caressed her bloody cheek with the dull side. With the other, he reached up and rubbed his thumb along her cheek, as if feeling the texture of her skin for imperfections. She tried to snap her sharp teeth at him to keep his roaming hands away. The move caused her body to shift and rub her wounds against the tightly binding rope. His hands pulled back the barest amount and all he did was continue to grin softly. She watched, as he stepped back a bit to take one long look up and down the entirety of her body. With a sure step forward, pain once again consumed her as the blade was, suddenly, driven into her belly through the arrow wound. A gasping and gurgling pain issued from her abdomen as the blade was pulled downwards in a sharp sawing motion. She felt her skin split in two and separate as her breath rushed from her body. The sagging of her innards robbed her of even enough air to scream in pain. The monster before her had both of his hands within her lower body. The super-heated feeling of her blood pouring down her was a sharp focus even as the world started to dim. With a sharp tug, she felt her guts slide down her body and the feel of her intestines and other organs wash over her face. The wet sound of them hitting the ground, below her, echoed in her ears as all she could do was issue her last silent attempts at screams.  

Her final indignity was being left, hanging in that tree as nothing but refuse. Her fetid corpse was found by a fisherman, who had always claimed the spot in the trees was good luck. Her eyes, plucked from their sockets and her mouth hung open in perpetual horror. Her tongue having been chewed out by some manner of wild creature. The viscera splattered upon the ground wriggled and writhed as the maggots and flies had their way with the fox woman's decaying corpse. Her tail was missing, cut from the body with precision and care. Her right arm was also gone from the form but pieces found near the remains of a fire. Her sharp ears that had once crowned her head had been sheared off and tossed from her body to lay nearby in a bush. All that was left of what had made her distinctly herself was nothing more than scraps left to bake in the sun. All she would be from that point on was a butchered memory of what had been left behind.