| Sacred Lines [closed to Tsume and Raidou] | [Jun. 25th, 2008|06:27 pm] |
[Takes place two weeks after the end of the Three's a Crowd... thread and Get Your Story Straight. Five days after Attack of the Ankle Biters.]
The door to the little cabin was cracked open, letting afternoon light spill in, turning dust motes to fools' gold and streaking a beam across the warped wooden floor. Cold air ghosted up from the holes in the flooring planks, breezes that shouldn't have existed sliding around Tsume's ankles like cool fingers. It was a miserable hideout in the chilly weather, but still better than a cave. She could only be grateful they had a bunker on the far edge of Fire Country, though grateful was difficult to remember when the pump was so cold her skin had to be dragged off it, and the slanted roof let rain water dribble in.
She'd be glad when her back-up arrived. There wasn't any hurry, really; the demon lurking at the edge of the other country was only a minor demon, she could tell by scent and spoor, and while the rumors might be true and it might be preying on the nearby village, that wasn't a Fire Country village. In fact, Konoha wasn't even getting paid for this mission: keeping Fire Country free from demons--minor or otherwise--was in their own best interest. A single quiet whisper of something demonic was enough to send any available ninja out to investigate.
This time, it had been her and Kuromaru. She'd tracked the creature's scent back to its lair--a warren of caves, and how she really hated caves--in a nearby escarpment, and remained around long enough to gather some information. The demon wasn't terribly powerful, or hugely strong. Still, it was best to be careful with demons; they were all stronger than people. So she'd sent back word that there the whispers were true and back up was needed, and she and Kuromaru had hunkered down to wait.
Kuromaru was out hunting, as he'd done daily since they'd arrived. Tsume stood over a basin of warm water dressed only in black trousers and a sports bra, her dog tags clinking off the beaded metal chain, swinging against her skin like a touch of ice with every breath. The wind murmured around the bunker. Trees scratched overhead. There was no sound of Kuromaru, which could only be good; sound always meant a problem.
Her skin rose in chilled goosebumps, and she lifted a dripping rag to finish wiping off the worst of the sweat from her workout. It had been several days since she'd sent word back that she needed another ninja. With luck, they'd arrive soon. Hopefully very soon. There was only so much working out she could do to remain entertained. |
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