A thick fur was wrapped around him as he left the village heading towards the monastery. There hadn't been many travellors this way from the village for quite some time, but there was information there that he wanted to attain. Or at least he hoped there would be. They had a library there, probably the oldest library in Lightning Country, older than that of Cloud's though it wasn't updated like other libraries. The only information that the library there would have would be the information that the monks who lived there found.
The path was difficult and Kushin knew this, only through stories of course, but the road would go from being a gravel path to climbing rocks, to walking along edges no wider than a mans foot till they reached the summit. This was what he had prepared for, and being a shinobi none of this sounded all that difficult. What was going to be the main issue would be the time it would take to get there and the freezing cold of the weather.
The Thunder mountains weren't known for their hospitality. The crunch under his boots wasn't simply that of some pebbles on other pebbles, but snow and ice. His breath didn't only blow out before him, but lingered long enough for him to walk through it like it was a small fog. Living in the mountains hardened the Cloud shinobi, or that's what he thought anyway. They lived in a high atmosphere, getting used to an oxygen deprived state. That might also account for the number of people with multiple personality disorder as well of course, but it was what it was. Those who survived the training and survived the weather, those who kept a sharp mind and didn't lose their focus in the spartan lifestyle that the mountains forced on those who lived there, they were the strong.
Perhaps that was why he loved his village so much that he would sacrifice his own soul to aid it. He didn't rightly care what happened to the weak, they should die, that was natural selection. If the strong lived with the strong they would only get stronger, if the strong had to continue to look after the weak they would lose the ability to reach their peak. The weak bludged off of the strong and fed from their strength. Kushin had found easier alternatives for those he deemed strong. But those who were weak... he had to be careful about how he went about culling them. If he was caught and jailed, or forced to flee his home then he couldn't help them quite so easily, though he would always try.
The pathway was narrowing and each step was almost down to luck. Would the earth give way under his feet or would it hold him. He wasn't a heavy man, a slender shinobi build, but he knew that that wouldn't matter up here. If the earth gave way, what would he do. He had to have a plan for it. Using chakra to simply stick himself to the stones wouldn't help if they gave way and fell. So what else was there.
Forming seals stone ripped from the earth down the cliff face, forming an easier passage. Yes he knew it was cheating, but he didn't care, he'd have them move back into the stonework afterwards so that the next people to attempt to gain access to the monastery would have such an easy way around such a potentially dangerous part of the walk.
For the next part there were trees and bushes, some harsh grasses and more stone. It would be here that he would take a bit of a rest, pull the boiled potato and egg from a pouch which was beneath the cloak to lend him their heat, not they would lend him their energy and give him strength. He had more food with him in his pack, but he was hoping to reach his goal before nightfall, and it was only lunchtime.
As he sat there eating his potato he looked off across the peaks of the Thunder Mountains and marveled at the views. Then would look up the direction he had to walk and know that there was still far to go.
[Searching for any of the choices in this area. Randomize it.
Word Count: 712]
The path was difficult and Kushin knew this, only through stories of course, but the road would go from being a gravel path to climbing rocks, to walking along edges no wider than a mans foot till they reached the summit. This was what he had prepared for, and being a shinobi none of this sounded all that difficult. What was going to be the main issue would be the time it would take to get there and the freezing cold of the weather.
The Thunder mountains weren't known for their hospitality. The crunch under his boots wasn't simply that of some pebbles on other pebbles, but snow and ice. His breath didn't only blow out before him, but lingered long enough for him to walk through it like it was a small fog. Living in the mountains hardened the Cloud shinobi, or that's what he thought anyway. They lived in a high atmosphere, getting used to an oxygen deprived state. That might also account for the number of people with multiple personality disorder as well of course, but it was what it was. Those who survived the training and survived the weather, those who kept a sharp mind and didn't lose their focus in the spartan lifestyle that the mountains forced on those who lived there, they were the strong.
Perhaps that was why he loved his village so much that he would sacrifice his own soul to aid it. He didn't rightly care what happened to the weak, they should die, that was natural selection. If the strong lived with the strong they would only get stronger, if the strong had to continue to look after the weak they would lose the ability to reach their peak. The weak bludged off of the strong and fed from their strength. Kushin had found easier alternatives for those he deemed strong. But those who were weak... he had to be careful about how he went about culling them. If he was caught and jailed, or forced to flee his home then he couldn't help them quite so easily, though he would always try.
The pathway was narrowing and each step was almost down to luck. Would the earth give way under his feet or would it hold him. He wasn't a heavy man, a slender shinobi build, but he knew that that wouldn't matter up here. If the earth gave way, what would he do. He had to have a plan for it. Using chakra to simply stick himself to the stones wouldn't help if they gave way and fell. So what else was there.
Forming seals stone ripped from the earth down the cliff face, forming an easier passage. Yes he knew it was cheating, but he didn't care, he'd have them move back into the stonework afterwards so that the next people to attempt to gain access to the monastery would have such an easy way around such a potentially dangerous part of the walk.
For the next part there were trees and bushes, some harsh grasses and more stone. It would be here that he would take a bit of a rest, pull the boiled potato and egg from a pouch which was beneath the cloak to lend him their heat, not they would lend him their energy and give him strength. He had more food with him in his pack, but he was hoping to reach his goal before nightfall, and it was only lunchtime.
As he sat there eating his potato he looked off across the peaks of the Thunder Mountains and marveled at the views. Then would look up the direction he had to walk and know that there was still far to go.
[Searching for any of the choices in this area. Randomize it.
Word Count: 712]
