The sky was clear, enabling the light of the full moon to shine on the desert sand, casting back a strange reflection as if the stars of the firmament had fallen or at least were at rest. The wind whistled throughout the canyon, reminiscent of the screams of the dying, that single moment as the breath of life escaped for one last time.
Red eyes scanned the ancient natural landscape beneath a thick, black hood. The tell-tale feeling of beating blood indicated that there were many around him, living creatures that, for now, had not been disturbed by his presence. Pale hands drew back the hood, revealing a pinched face, an almost skeletal visage pierced by two points of blood red. The freezing wind battered at his face, though it seemed to not have any effect on this strange man. He crouched down, the robe spilling onto the sand beneath him, as he reached and took some of the sand into his hands, letting it fall through his pale, almost skeletal fingers.
There had been death here, and not just that of the usual mortal creatures that plagued the world. No - here titans had died, lovers had dreamed their last, and shinobi and their enemies by the score had fallen afoul of the shinobi of the village hidden in the sand.
It brought a wry smile to the mans face.
The shinobi of Sunagakure were a different breed. Born amidst the harshest conditions they grew into strong, fine warriors unlike the princesses of Kumogakure, or the hypocrites of Konohagakure. No - these were trained killers, and worthy of their title. As creatures of usefulness and beauty, Migoya had, therefore, no intention of destroying them. That is if they didn't get in his way.
A lingering feeling as if he intimately knew this land plagued at the back of his mind. To his knowledge he had never spent any significant time in the village, yet it felt almost like home. It was as if he was born here, rather than the nightmare that was Konoha before the unification wars. He had met some interesting characters indeed, and overall had been somewhat impressed. He hoped there would not be blood, but if Takeshi had informed them of his… position… he might just have to be a rude guest.
Afterall, Suna had something he desperately needed, and one of the few things he would kill for. Thus, the path towards the village loomed ever closer.
He rose, brushing the sand from his hands as he turned to look at his ‘present’. Several figures, around 15, seemed to walk behind him, unerringly stopping all as one as he had stopped, and as he turned to walk forward they continued their journey, as if being pulled by strings. Idiots who had decided that a lone figure amidst the dunes was an easy target. They had been wrong.
Migoya, Yamikage, master of death, missing-nin of Konohagakure, World-tree bearer and all the other many titles he had earned over the centuries of his unnatural life, stepped forward, the sands parting way as if this figure was dividing the sea itself. He would not stop for he had business in Sunakgakure, and woe to the one who would get in his way.
For a man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs to him.
WC: 1017
[1hr Run time to gates - if this is still a thing]
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