Clang...clang . The sound of steel meeting wood echoed around the area as the Santaru honed her sword skills slicing away at a tree as she usually did every other week. Soku prided herself on being a capable fighter and as such kept on top of her combat skills training every week regularly. It was almost like a hobby of hers to train. Most shinobi got lax with their skills and eventually neglected training putting their full trust in their powers alone. The girl thought that was pure laziness and power on its one could not be refined without regular practice just like riding a bike. Wiping a few beads of sweat off her face, the kunoichi put down her blade and took a few swigs of her water cup feeling the fluid rush down her throat clearing her parched throat. Refreshed, she flicked her fingers toward her waist and almost instantly, a few shuriken materialized into her hand and without pausing or even looking at the target, Soku directed them at the tree and they hit the bark dead on quivering. Sometimes, the girl was afraid of her own powers eyeing the projectiles but she wasn't the best out there. She was simply part of a village whom nurtured it's shinobi to strive for excellence, not perfection. There was a major difference between those two words.
Smiling a bit, the girl glanced down at her blade which was rusted from all the conflicts it had seen but she still held on to it. She couldn't bear to let it go, her sword was like a part of her. With it, she felt complete but if without it, it would be like losing a companion and she simply refused to let it go despite what others say.
MFT: 296
Smiling a bit, the girl glanced down at her blade which was rusted from all the conflicts it had seen but she still held on to it. She couldn't bear to let it go, her sword was like a part of her. With it, she felt complete but if without it, it would be like losing a companion and she simply refused to let it go despite what others say.
MFT: 296