It was the eve of Winter's true beginning and as the days continued to grow short, the night seemed to last forever. Fittingly, tonight was to be a full moon, bright and promising for the new dawn that lay ahead. Unceremoniously, Musashi stood atop the rushing water of the waterfall, right where he could look down at the valley below but over to the large statues on either side of him. The sound of the rushing water was calming, and offered just enough white noise to drown out the small thoughts that would soon no longer be important. He was to meet a promising shoot that could in fact one day take over the duties of clan leader. Said shoot was small now, but in time could become a mighty tree trunk. How the many years would shape him, remained to be seen but for now, tonight, there would be only the most serene.
The coordinates were set, the night was young and like the springtime of youth, one couldn't help but to think that one day, this pivotal moment would be looked at with fondness. Many could plan but only a shocking few could purpose. Such power was beyond mere mortals but an attempt was better than nothing at all. Dressed in blackened garb that spoke more to a regalness than fisticuffs, on and on he waited, as a a gust of wind blew over the top of the water. Such a simple technique as standing on water was but the beginning of the sort of tricks that had allowed shinobi and those like them to become the dominant power. Many leaders had been forged by the fires of such a militaristic system but how long could it last? Was there soon to be a point when all such techniques would reach their peak? Could there one day be an uprising? No single soul held all the answers, but the questions were equally infinite. With the fall of one, the rising of another would soon be.
