[Just in case there are any issues:
The pass is stated that its watched by guards at the gates, which is allowed. Hence why he knows about a
student being here, unguarded/escorted. Also, this is the dragon tooth pass. Therefore your camp is located within the dragontooth pass. Which means it's literally a camp of people outside our gates, in essense. Which means your campsite is known, because it would have been allowed to be established in the pass that leads directly to the village.
If you have any issues or questions with my entry, by all means, please pm me and we can discuss it. If not, let's enjoy the roleplay.]
A change in the weather preceded his appearance, though the sky itself did not change. The air became.. thicker. Colder. Clinging to the skin of those who paid attention to their surroundings in a way anything above subconsciously. There was an.. oily quality to that clingy, cloying thickness as if the atmosphere itself had become something alive. Sentient. And utterly perverse in that presence, uncomfortable in its inescapable closeness. It steadily increased however as the proximity closed. A raising of the hairs at the back of the neck alerting to a sudden
wrongness in the area, a roiling of the stomach in discomfiting alarm. The reactions varied among those that received it, but with the strength of the being that approached, the only guarantee was that there
would be a reaction. A lack of reaction might even be
more disturbing in its hint at a persons detachment from their own senses. Things a ninja needs.
Rat-ta-tck. Rat-ta-tck. Rat-ta-tck.
The hard leather sole of his white, crocodile leather wing-tip shoes clicked against the cobblestone in a matching rhythmic beat to the tapping of his cane's end. His three piece suit was of a midnight blue, the color complemented by the charcoal grey vest, tie and fedora had he wore. Black, fingerless gloves adorned his hands, a wedding ring of white gold and onyx on his ring finger, a simple silver band on his opposite hand scribed with a design reminiscent to that of a Celtic sort. His face was cast in a deep shadow due to the rim of his hat, however even from a distance those glowing,
starburst eyes of his could be seen, locked on the student who was here in the pass, alone but for the shinobi who was, for the most part, a stranger to this village.
The closer he came, the more intense the onslaught of that ever-present demonic aura would become, battering their senses in a way that would explicitly state one, simple thing.
The Veteran Sennin was anything but pleased.