A mask rested against the side of the tower, pierced through it's center by a single piece of jagged ice. The mask itself was uncolored and partially cracked, though even this damage had been melded together with ice. It was a testament, a sole understanding that for whomever the mask belonged to they would no longer need it or wear it for what it was worth. It was a symbol of a man who had no longer saw the light in what he was doing, it was a symbol of a man who would find his own in the world. Beneath the mask was a single phrase...
"Shinobi are weapons, nothing more and nothing less."
Beneath the shrine in a passing crowd of people, a man resigned to himself pulled a hood over his head and blinked. The people around him could have sworn that the air had become colder suddenly. He had a grimace, one that showed neither happiness or sadness, as he walked into the center of the village intermingling perfectly. There were things he needed to do and the way the village was structured would inhibit this. Glancing back momentarily, his eyes peered towards the shrine before adverting his eyes once again. He wouldn't miss this place, not one bit. As he walked various things became the center of his mind's attention. Suddenly stopping he would reach into his pocket, removing a small band with a metal plaque that had a symbol etched into it. He tilted his head momentarily before suddenly motioning his palm across it. His figure would be seen disappearing among the numerous citizens converging down various paved paths.
Resting on the ground, unnoticed and slightly trampled upon would be an iwagakure headband with a slash across the symbol.
[Force Retired]