umi crowe

  Mischief in Aprons  

  Part fox, part chaos, all sugar. Baking treats, pulling pranks, and surviving centuries— sometimes all at once.    

Once she had learned the basics and grown confident in her craft, she began to study culinary arts formally while working part-time practicing everything she had learned and expanding her skills. Languages, small tricks, illusions, baking techniques, all of it became part of her.By the time she returned to Korea, around six thousand years old, she thought she could trust again. She remembered her parents’ lessons, the kindness of strangers in Europe, and believed the world could hold safe corners. Warm smiles, open hands, promises of food and work. She let her guard down, just a little. She shouldn’t have. They saw the flicker of foxfire in her eyes, glimpsed her tail, and sold her to traffickers.Now, she lives as an unclaimed slave. Quiet, observant, careful with every word, every motion. At Sweet Agape, she works as a baking assistant. The ovens warm her, the sugar keeps her steady. She hums old melodies, shapes pastries with delicate hands, and leaves little illusions just enough to make herself smile. Mischief keeps her alive. Curiosity keeps her sane.She remembers her parents in fragments— the warmth of her mother’s hands, the quiet strength of her father, the safety of their forest home. She carries the fox-tail bracelet around her wrist, still warm against her skin, a reminder of the life she lost and the life she’s still trying to build.She is waiting. She is surviving. She is still Umi. The fox spirit who has outlived centuries, loss, and betrayal. A creature of mischief and memory, of laughter and sorrow. And one day, she hopes, she will find someone who sees her not as a prize or a commodity, but as she has always been, a survivor, a trickster, a heart that refuses to break.

  more about Umi    “Umi… stay behind us. Don’t look back.”The forest was too quiet that night. Too still, like the world was holding its breath. She was barely five thousand years old, still young for a Gumiho, when hunters found her home. They had heard rumors—fox spirits with multiple tails, capable of shifting forms, absorbing energy, and twisting fate. They wanted her parents’ magic, their tails, the soulstone. Anything that could be sold.Her mother pressed a fox-tail bracelet into her small hands. “Run. Live. Promise us you’ll survive.” Her father shoved her into the shadows, eyes burning with both fear and pride. They fought, teeth and claws and fire, but even legends can bleed. Umi never saw them again.After the smoke cleared, she wandered. First through forests and mountains, learning to shift, to hide, to take only the energy she needed without hurting anyone. She slipped into human villages, watched their lives, mimicked their gestures, stole small delights always careful not to be caught. Mischief became her shield. Curiosity, her guide.
Over time, she learned to blend in more fully. She studied human habits, practiced speech and mannerisms, and even learned how to earn her own money— taking odd jobs, helping in kitchens, cleaning, running errands— anything that would let her survive without drawing attention. Piece by piece, she built enough to afford passage abroad.Europe came next. Rainy streets, candlelit taverns, wide cobblestone squares. A quiet family took her in, bird lovers who never asked why she had ears that twitched or eyes that flickered gold in sunlight. They taught her how to bake— kneading dough, measuring sugar, shaping pastries, balancing flavors. It was there, among the warm ovens and sweet smells, that Umi discovered her passion for baking. She called herself Crowe, because she watched the sky like a lonely bird perched too high to ever land. The name stuck. For the first time in centuries, she felt she belonged somewhere.

Mistress Rei

Theo

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