The party was over, the guest had all left or were too inebriated to leave. Zenichi had never been to a wedding before and could only guess that he may never see one of this magnitude again. If he had been a few years older with a bug for mischief, he would have had a completely different experience. The one he gained was thrilling but a lot of the details were lost on a kid who knew nothing about love, or elegance, or even the formal matters associated with what matrimony entails. Years later, he will remark on the wonderful foods or the first fight he was ever in but he won't remember the bride's first name, let alone her maiden name. He also won't know how to explain the odd rites they Toraono Clan performed during their ceremony at the next wedding he attends. Truth be told about the event, Zenichi was bored for the most part and when everyone retired for the night, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep unless he got some of the remaining adrenaline and nerves he had built up in his sparring match.
He stepped out of the Toraono Dojo and was immediately smacked with a dose of salt air sailing through the wind. He hadn't realized how much he missed the water being nearby in Fire country and yearned to feel the sand moving across his toes by the currents strong arm. He figured that if the wind could bring the smell of salt water, then it must be within a short travel distance. With each step into the wind, the aroma became more potent. Mentally he knew that salt water was non potable but the more he smelled it, the more he yearned for it. It was akin to a thirst that could only be crushed by one specific item. A light mystical walk became a motivated jog. A determined job soon became an unwavering sprint. Soon, he was darting across the sand and eventually the rye grass that could grow anywhere with the slightest moisture. As his eyes laid upon the distant waters, he started to hear the whisper of waves greeting him. Every instinct in his body made him want to run faster towards their beckoning voices. His heart leaped in one direction but his eyes were locked on another. On the horizon, he great wall seemed to want to rise towards the sky. It seems ominous in comparison to expansive region. A lone populous, alone in the world. He had heard the term Mirage before but felt this wasn't one sorted by a trickery of the eyes.
He walked towards the wind once again but he lost the confidence in his step. Something told him to detour to the great wall, to find a piece of his destiny there. It was foolish though that only kids can invest stock into. Destiny wasn't determined, it was forged. But on that night, his eyes lead to where his mind wandered. Soon, his traitorous heart followed and he started to move towards the walls. This time, he didn't ease into an insane pace, he had to find the source of the Siren who sung to his soul immediately.
[WC=500+]
He stepped out of the Toraono Dojo and was immediately smacked with a dose of salt air sailing through the wind. He hadn't realized how much he missed the water being nearby in Fire country and yearned to feel the sand moving across his toes by the currents strong arm. He figured that if the wind could bring the smell of salt water, then it must be within a short travel distance. With each step into the wind, the aroma became more potent. Mentally he knew that salt water was non potable but the more he smelled it, the more he yearned for it. It was akin to a thirst that could only be crushed by one specific item. A light mystical walk became a motivated jog. A determined job soon became an unwavering sprint. Soon, he was darting across the sand and eventually the rye grass that could grow anywhere with the slightest moisture. As his eyes laid upon the distant waters, he started to hear the whisper of waves greeting him. Every instinct in his body made him want to run faster towards their beckoning voices. His heart leaped in one direction but his eyes were locked on another. On the horizon, he great wall seemed to want to rise towards the sky. It seems ominous in comparison to expansive region. A lone populous, alone in the world. He had heard the term Mirage before but felt this wasn't one sorted by a trickery of the eyes.
He walked towards the wind once again but he lost the confidence in his step. Something told him to detour to the great wall, to find a piece of his destiny there. It was foolish though that only kids can invest stock into. Destiny wasn't determined, it was forged. But on that night, his eyes lead to where his mind wandered. Soon, his traitorous heart followed and he started to move towards the walls. This time, he didn't ease into an insane pace, he had to find the source of the Siren who sung to his soul immediately.
[WC=500+]