A somber figure approached the gates, dressed in a dark hooded cape. Her travel clothes were worn and dirty, they were in fact, blood and mudstained. There was little to identify the figure before she presented herself, and the day, though it had dawned windy and warm, had begun by noon, to cool and still. Pehaps it was her presence which made this change. Perhaps it was simply another strange wrathful day for the weather of kumogakure. Hikari knocked three times, as loudly as she could, upon the gates, not bothering to speak to announce herself. It wouldn't matter anyway. Her passport would be examined, and she would be admitted. The way of the world would not be changed due to words, or grief, or peace; these were very hard concepts for the red haired woman, but death weighed heavily on her spirit, pulling her down to their level.
She would remove the hood once the gates opened, and smile wanly at whomever came to greet her.
[Requesting entrance]
She would remove the hood once the gates opened, and smile wanly at whomever came to greet her.
[Requesting entrance]