Four feet pounded against the sand in perfect sync, matching the pace and steady stride of two shinobi as they traveled South across the scorching landscape. The large male made long strides while his female companion made faster, shorter ones, but neither remained out of the other’s sight or presence for more than a second at most. At first glance, they appeared to be in some sort of competition, but truth be told this was just how shinobi traveled. Horses, carriage, hoppers, the mountable birds, or even the train; none of these things could be near as fast or steady as their own two legs. Being that they were born to this region, the duo naturally had a honed a technique of chakra coating that not only protected their feet - but gave them more purchase to run on. Not unlike running on water, moving across the desert sand took skill and technique that often had outside shinobi grasping at, well, sand. There was a firm reason why Sunagakure had remained mostly peaceful with regards to the other major military, and that was because none of them dared to waste their army against the sand shinobi’s greatest weapon - their home.
Red spiraled mounds of stone suddenly began to jut out in oddly uniformed intervals throughout the desert in their path. Most where about the size of large hills, positioned away from each other in a peculiar order. Their appearance was stark against the kilometers of sand the couple had already traveled in the short time upon the surface; especially since they looked like man had arranged them and not nature. Yet it was a known area to Suna and the first major landmark on the pair’s journey towards the southern sea. Known as to their village as the Red Gate and to the Nomads as the Crimson Claw, it was a small section of the desert that bordered the west mountain range that blocked their desert country from that side of the world.
The Gates meant it was time to slow down, and take in some sights. Not really because they wanted to, per say, but because if they didn’t Michino risked stepping on a smaller version of the spirals and impaling his foot; it was a commonly known risk when wandering around the Red Gate. As the most recent Kazekage found his legs backpedaling ever so slightly to move his body back into an actual walk, his purple eyes shifted from their natural color to red. Magatama spiraled out of his pupil as they gazed around with an enhanced vision towards the upper parts of the stone.
The fact that both Michino and Chiyoko possessed incredibly powerful eyes meant anything trying to ambush them would be impossible. The Toraono lord’s crimson gaze shot across the upper rocks and noted a strange lack of chakra signatures from the animal that roamed the red rocky landscape; the feles diabolicus , or “devil cat.” They were small desert tigers that had evolved horns sprouting from their foreheads in the same spiral formation as the red rocks they carved homes out of. Fed on a diet of primarily meat and nocturnal by nature, Michino wasn’t expecting to actually see any of the cats his clan had once been associated with…but he also wasn’t expecting to see nothing either. At the very least his special eyes should pick up on latent chakra signatures left by territorial claw marks that the tigers were known to make daily; but not a single mark lit up with the tell-tale chakra color.
“Weird…” he muttered low towards Chiyoko, “I wasn’t expecting a reception but, devil cats usually come and greet whoever enters their territory. Shame too, because I had my clan’s ritual dance to appease their leader all lined up in my head and everything…guess I won’t be embarrassing myself for passage now, but this is still weird. You notice how quiet it is too?”
As they passed the threshold of desert and rock, and a little ways in, the why to the mysterious non-existence became clear. The smell of cooking meat wafted into the air and a quick glance upwards revealed smoke coming out of the mouth of a large cave a top one of the spirals. Michino’s eyes narrowed at the blasphemy. Couldn’t be Nomads, they both knew better and revered the devil cats more than the Toraono; which left bandits. Ner’do’wells that were such worldly scum they had to etch out a life in the desert’s worst just to escape the justice they deserved. The man’s giant hand clenched into a fist and his jaw tightened with the need to dish out fury upon those that would poach sacred animals to a point of them being non-existent in their natural habitat…but he let it go.
As much as he wanted to dole out justice he knew that they only had so much time to achieve their current mission, and who knows how long it would take to reach the old Mist islands. Yet he couldn’t just make himself break away, and his stark figured stood there with a small tremble, seemingly waiting on Chiyo to give him permission to remind them of their current objective. He knew without a single word spoken she would pick up his vibe.
[Topic Entered]
[884 of 1500 WC]
[Using Contract of Choice Card: Cat][/glow]
Red spiraled mounds of stone suddenly began to jut out in oddly uniformed intervals throughout the desert in their path. Most where about the size of large hills, positioned away from each other in a peculiar order. Their appearance was stark against the kilometers of sand the couple had already traveled in the short time upon the surface; especially since they looked like man had arranged them and not nature. Yet it was a known area to Suna and the first major landmark on the pair’s journey towards the southern sea. Known as to their village as the Red Gate and to the Nomads as the Crimson Claw, it was a small section of the desert that bordered the west mountain range that blocked their desert country from that side of the world.
The Gates meant it was time to slow down, and take in some sights. Not really because they wanted to, per say, but because if they didn’t Michino risked stepping on a smaller version of the spirals and impaling his foot; it was a commonly known risk when wandering around the Red Gate. As the most recent Kazekage found his legs backpedaling ever so slightly to move his body back into an actual walk, his purple eyes shifted from their natural color to red. Magatama spiraled out of his pupil as they gazed around with an enhanced vision towards the upper parts of the stone.
The fact that both Michino and Chiyoko possessed incredibly powerful eyes meant anything trying to ambush them would be impossible. The Toraono lord’s crimson gaze shot across the upper rocks and noted a strange lack of chakra signatures from the animal that roamed the red rocky landscape; the feles diabolicus , or “devil cat.” They were small desert tigers that had evolved horns sprouting from their foreheads in the same spiral formation as the red rocks they carved homes out of. Fed on a diet of primarily meat and nocturnal by nature, Michino wasn’t expecting to actually see any of the cats his clan had once been associated with…but he also wasn’t expecting to see nothing either. At the very least his special eyes should pick up on latent chakra signatures left by territorial claw marks that the tigers were known to make daily; but not a single mark lit up with the tell-tale chakra color.
“Weird…” he muttered low towards Chiyoko, “I wasn’t expecting a reception but, devil cats usually come and greet whoever enters their territory. Shame too, because I had my clan’s ritual dance to appease their leader all lined up in my head and everything…guess I won’t be embarrassing myself for passage now, but this is still weird. You notice how quiet it is too?”
As they passed the threshold of desert and rock, and a little ways in, the why to the mysterious non-existence became clear. The smell of cooking meat wafted into the air and a quick glance upwards revealed smoke coming out of the mouth of a large cave a top one of the spirals. Michino’s eyes narrowed at the blasphemy. Couldn’t be Nomads, they both knew better and revered the devil cats more than the Toraono; which left bandits. Ner’do’wells that were such worldly scum they had to etch out a life in the desert’s worst just to escape the justice they deserved. The man’s giant hand clenched into a fist and his jaw tightened with the need to dish out fury upon those that would poach sacred animals to a point of them being non-existent in their natural habitat…but he let it go.
As much as he wanted to dole out justice he knew that they only had so much time to achieve their current mission, and who knows how long it would take to reach the old Mist islands. Yet he couldn’t just make himself break away, and his stark figured stood there with a small tremble, seemingly waiting on Chiyo to give him permission to remind them of their current objective. He knew without a single word spoken she would pick up his vibe.
[Topic Entered]
[884 of 1500 WC]
[Using Contract of Choice Card: Cat][/glow]
