To Travel [Requesting Exit]

[Shieo]

With the clacking of wooden geta against the stonework of the street leading to the ingress and egress of Kumogakure no Sato, sounded the arrival of Shieo with a rucksack and some extra bags in-tow at his waist. The day had just begun, with the crisp air of the mountainous mornings still at a high; a cloud of chilled breath escaped him with each passing second.

Upon proper arrival to the registry desk, he placed his bag down next to him and fished out his passport and offered it to the person posted for the checks. "'Eadin' out for the vacay' to Wind Country. Will be back before my permitted time is elapsed." afterwards he just patiently waited for the approval to be confirmed.

[Requesting Exit]

 

[Kagami Miro]

With a twirl a pencil spun around long digits with expertise. It had been a busy week for the gate officers. It was about time since the humdrum of monotony began to eat away at Mirō’s insides. Finalizing a few more reports from her missions, ears twitched at the sound of the door shutting. Calloused fingers drew strands of hair behind her ear while the gentlemen in front dug out his passport. Politely taking a hold of the old man's passport, all given information had been approved. Gold eyes took a final look at the unfamiliar face in front of her. “Vacation? And you chose Wind country?” A curious brow rose up. Suggesting that the desert was hardly a place to relax. “Everything’s good. Be safe.” Fingers spun the passport in her hand, offering the passport back towards him. Afterwards Mirō returned back to her mission reports at hand.

[Topic Entered.
Exit Request Approved.
Topic Left unless stopped.]

 

[Shieo]

With an arched brow, his expression read inquisitively for only a passed moment. Inevitably drawing his shoulders up as they pinched ever so slightly to be indicative of releasing some sort of tension. "Eeh' what cann'I say I like odd things. But'a, most people don't'er ask for judgement 'n'top of their approval process 'neh?" Handing off a gentle wink, as if he meant it to be taken pretty subtly in retort, afore accepting the passport. Slipping the document back into the folds of his attire. Not taking a second, he'd gripped his rucksack and slung it back over his back. Turning on heel and leaving with the distancing clack of his geta against the floor, a casual wave over his shoulder.

[Exit Thread+Gate]