Strained, heavy breathing. That's all that could be heard as a figure wearily shuffled towards what served as the gates to the Village Hidden by Sand. Apparently it was...a building? The complex was enormous. Grandiose, even. And possibly a tad too conspicuous for the entryway to a Hidden Village. But whoever this was approaching didn't seem to notice (or even care) about any of that. Their pace was painstakingly slow, like that of a zombie. Whoever-or whatever-this was didn't exactly seem normal. Anyone watching would instantly be able to recognize that something was wrong. And once they'd made it to the front of the structure? They stopped.
"I.............MADE IT!!!!"
An extremely sunburnt, severely dehydrated, possibly half-dead young man with rose-colored hair stood in nothing but his undergarments with his arms raised. His cry of victory seemed to echo for miles around as he just stood there, unmoving except for his heavy panting. Just from a glance one would be able to tell that he was NOT in good shape. His skin was beet red from overexposure to the sun, and his whole body looked like it had taken the full brunt of several sandstorms. His clothes (and sandals) were long gone, the youth having ditched them when he eventually concluded that they were "too hot to wear". He also hadn't had a drop of water since he set foot in Wind Country...which was a week ago. His eyes were blank. Actually, it looked like he was barely conscious at all. Either this kid was insane, had never traversed a desert before, or was just about the dumbest person that had ever lived...
...maybe all three.
Unfortunately he wouldn't be able to regale anyone with a story, because after about fifteen seconds of holding his pose...he collapsed facefirst into the sand. Out cold hot. If he had just stuck with his traveling companion this never would've happened. Or at least...they'd both be in this bad of a shape. Hopefully someone was guarding the entrance and would be able to help, because if not? I'm not sure this pink-haired buffoon would make it through this one. The sheer amount of stamina he possessed was astounding...but even he had his limits.
About a mile off a second figure was approaching at a slightly faster speed than the first. But their gait didn't seem that much healthier. The desert was unforgiving, and no place for the ill prepared. Good thing this particular fool never prepared for anything, eh? It was only a matter of time now before the second stranger reached the Dojo. Would the unconscious wanderer receive help? Or would the gates to this Shinobi Village serve as his sandy grave? Only time would tell.
"I.............MADE IT!!!!"
An extremely sunburnt, severely dehydrated, possibly half-dead young man with rose-colored hair stood in nothing but his undergarments with his arms raised. His cry of victory seemed to echo for miles around as he just stood there, unmoving except for his heavy panting. Just from a glance one would be able to tell that he was NOT in good shape. His skin was beet red from overexposure to the sun, and his whole body looked like it had taken the full brunt of several sandstorms. His clothes (and sandals) were long gone, the youth having ditched them when he eventually concluded that they were "too hot to wear". He also hadn't had a drop of water since he set foot in Wind Country...which was a week ago. His eyes were blank. Actually, it looked like he was barely conscious at all. Either this kid was insane, had never traversed a desert before, or was just about the dumbest person that had ever lived...
...maybe all three.
Unfortunately he wouldn't be able to regale anyone with a story, because after about fifteen seconds of holding his pose...he collapsed facefirst into the sand. Out cold hot. If he had just stuck with his traveling companion this never would've happened. Or at least...they'd both be in this bad of a shape. Hopefully someone was guarding the entrance and would be able to help, because if not? I'm not sure this pink-haired buffoon would make it through this one. The sheer amount of stamina he possessed was astounding...but even he had his limits.
About a mile off a second figure was approaching at a slightly faster speed than the first. But their gait didn't seem that much healthier. The desert was unforgiving, and no place for the ill prepared. Good thing this particular fool never prepared for anything, eh? It was only a matter of time now before the second stranger reached the Dojo. Would the unconscious wanderer receive help? Or would the gates to this Shinobi Village serve as his sandy grave? Only time would tell.
[Requesting Entry w/ NPC]
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