The withered body of a woman once referred to, for a brief period, as Koa had waddled her way to the great gates of Iwagakure. She moved at a snails pace, shrouded in material to keep her leathery body warm as the white strands of hair flapped wildly against the wind. She was unrecognisable, undeterred wavered by the fear of returning to her old home - to anyone else, she was buy an old woman withered by time. Armed with a wooden staff made from, yes you guessed it, wood she patted it against the ground in front of her so that her eyes could rest behind those fleshy shields.
She was tired, so very tired, and the short journey had taken it out of her. She didn't dare speak, her voice to frail and body unable to project such a necessary volume for someone to hear her anyway.
[Yo. Writer's block, yo.]
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She was tired, so very tired, and the short journey had taken it out of her. She didn't dare speak, her voice to frail and body unable to project such a necessary volume for someone to hear her anyway.
[Yo. Writer's block, yo.]
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