"For what?" Kakashi demanded, on a rasping inhale. "Killer sheep? We're not even at the border."

After seven hours of running they were almost there, but not quite. Unfortunately, 'there' was only the border between Fire Country and Coal Country, which contained mountains, disgruntled goat-herders, the deep mines for which the country was named -- and not much else. On the other side was Snow Country, which was all mountains, and on the other side of that was Lightning Country. Which housed Kumogakure no sato, the Village Hidden in the Clouds.

Which was where Shiki and his partner, the torturers who'd flayed Ryouma's chest open, were from.

"For signs," Ginta gasped. "Anything the other search teams might have missed." He tilted his monkey-face mask up, revealing a face that was flushed with exertion. Sweat-soaked hair clung to his forehead. "Need to decide whether he took the bluffs path, or started following the Small Falls trail."

"You think he left us a note?" Kakashi snapped. "Or just carved an arrow on a tree somewhere? It's been three weeks." And Ryouma was a jounin, accomplished at ghosting through the world without a trace.

"You think it's better to just guess at random? Or are you giving up already?" Ginta snarled back. He dashed an armoured forearm over his face, raking sweat away, then pointed ahead, where the road forked into two trails. "Or maybe we can find something useful, like whether or not it was, for example, raining three weeks ago so he took the drier trail. Or maybe it was icy and he took the low one."

"Absolutely," Kakashi drawled acidly. "That's a brilliant idea. It's just a shame I forgot to check the weather reports for the whole region, what with having to run blind."

"Did you fail trail reading in school?" Ginta almost yelled. "Or do you maybe remember how to read trail signs? You want to give up before we've even started, that's your business. I'm looking for Ryouma, and this is the one and only point where the search teams found any sign of him." He stalked off, still breathing hard, gaze fixed on the ground.

Kakashi ground his back teeth together, biting down a fistful of responses.

I was in school for six months, asshole.

A three-weeks old trail is a dead trail.

If three search teams already ran through here, any signs are long-corrupted. And useless, if they didn't already lead to Ryouma.

Tell me where we're going!

He hated working with search-partners. Hated having less cards, less knowledge, no leverage--

Bitching was not helping.

He stripped his ANBU mask off, inhaling the cold North wind, and pulled his cloth mask down to his chin. Felt the sting of distant snow on his lips, even at this time of year. Three weeks ago he'd been in Waterfall country, almost three-hundred miles West. It had rained constantly, hard and icy. It might have sleeted here.

He bit down hard on the pad of his left thumb, ripping through the callous. Blood splattered the scrubby grass. Kakashi kicked a clump of half-dried mud over it, freed a scroll from his armour, swept a hot red line down the unfurling parchment, and called on his chakra.

Called on his dogs.

Four snapped into smokey reality, hooked by the jutsu, and landed in a semi-graceful heap in front of him. Shouma, the young leggy shepherd, found his feet first. Then the two shaggy wolfhounds. Pakkun stayed on his backside and offered Kakashi a disdainful look.

"Seriously?" he said.

Kakashi growled a brief explanation, then commands that sent the first three bolting, noses to the ground. Pakkun clambered slowly upright, liquid-brown eyes dark and serious, all attitude gone.

"Damn, kid," he rumbled. "I'm sorry."

"Go with Ginta," Kakashi said shortly, yanking his mask back up. "Bite him if you want to. Tell him I'm checking out the higher trail."