Well this is new...

After the unexpected fall of Amegakure the young rogue was left to wonder the borders. But eventually he found his way to his destination the village of Kumogakure. The sight of it he did not really expect. The whole area was covered in a dense mist. He had already circled it fully but could not have found a safe passage, everywhere the ground was as swamp, except it smelled ten times worse, it smelled of death and rot. He could even see the silhouettes of what seemed to be human bodies on spikes, some appeared to be wandering about and the air echoed with occasional moan of agony. What the hell was this? Was there a village at the heart of all of this? From this range thanks to the mist the boy could not make sure of that, but it was clear to him that he would not make it through this mess without a guide. The way was shut and the dead were keeping it.

Although the past has taught the boy not to put too much faith into this kind of stuff, but Oren hoped he might still find someone, or someone would find him, who would help him here. He made camp some short distance from the mist, just far enough where the smell was tolerable and the screams would not reach his ears. The light of the fire he made would flicker for a few days. If there was no progress by then he would probably pack up and leave.

Day 20: They still have not found me.
Such would be the entrance to his diary that day. But it was more special than that. It was the day when Oren decided to test his luck and try to cross the ocean of literal shit and rotten guts. Having been hanging outside those blasted fields of death for the better part of a month he had analyzed the creatures roaming in them. He knew there was a path that would be open for him for a very brief moment. Should everything go as expected he would reach the village before the walkers noticed him. And that's what he would do. After gathering his stuff the boy would focus his chakra, coating his body in a layer of water release chakra which was the only method he knew of moving in the crap. Then as fast as he could he strode across the fields.

Screw it. After all the tryhard swimming through shit Oren decided it wasn't worth all the trouble once he saw how short of a distance his efforts had gotten him. He turned around, got back to stable ground, washed the rot off him and left the area.

The mysterious rotten fields, walking dead and cursed mist... At least it was an interesting camping experience.

469 w.
[Exit to borders
Oh and claiming 2 stats for my trouble of crap swimming]