White seemed to be a natural camouflage around these parts, as the white of his armor blended in well with the snow and masked his presence to many. Osore took some solace in that, since it meant he wouldn't be bothered much on the way, but his companions did not share his clothing color choices, so the trip still did not go as easily as if he'd been alone, but few trips did if someone else was hitching along for the ride. But here, here was the entrance to the fabled village in the clouds, the shinobi home in the land of lightning. It looked rustic.
The snows parted before him as he walked into full view of their gates, and indeed anyone who did not notice the man would be in dire need of a vision test. Osore was nearly eight feet tall and weighed over three hundred pounds, his armor only made him look even larger. And while they could be forgiven for the torso of the armor blending in with the background, the orange visor of the helmet that allowed him to see most certainly did not. He calmly marches up to the gates and growls out something under his breath, looking back and waiting.
The snows parted before him as he walked into full view of their gates, and indeed anyone who did not notice the man would be in dire need of a vision test. Osore was nearly eight feet tall and weighed over three hundred pounds, his armor only made him look even larger. And while they could be forgiven for the torso of the armor blending in with the background, the orange visor of the helmet that allowed him to see most certainly did not. He calmly marches up to the gates and growls out something under his breath, looking back and waiting.