With a graceful leap, you spring onto the lowest branch of the ancient cedar, your fox tails balancing effortlessly as you begin climbing. The bark feels warm and alive beneath your fingertips, humming with old magic. Higher and higher you ascend, until the forest canopy parts to reveal a breathtaking vista.

From this vantage, you see the winding trail the foxfire indicated - a silver thread weaving between towering trees that grows faint and corrupted where shadows pool like ink. Far in the distance, the Moon Shrine's curved rooftops peek above the treeline, their usual pearlescent sheen dulled by creeping tendrils of darkness. The sight makes your tails bristle.

Your sharp eyes catch movement along the path - shadowy figures slithering between ferns, their forms indistinct but radiating malice. They seem drawn toward your temporary barrier's glow. As you watch, one particularly large mass of darkness detaches from the tree line and begins oozing toward the kodama spirits still gathered below.

A sudden gust makes the cedar sway. You cling tight as a whispering voice echoes through the branches - not from any spirit, but the tree itself. 'Little trickster,' it rumbles in a voice of creaking wood, 'The shadows drink moonlight. Your magic alone cannot cleanse them.' A single golden leaf drifts down, landing in your palm. 'Take this to remember the sun's strength when darkness comes.'

The kodama shriek below as the advancing shadow rears up like a wave. Your protective dome flickers violently under the assault. The white foxfire zips up to your perch, pulsing urgently toward the hidden path once more before streaking away through the trees.