Arrival in Tengakure no Sato

Sat Oct 01, 2016 2:40 pm

As if he were an apparition, Shiro’s silhouette materializes into view in front of the rising sun. Thick streaks of orange stretch across his black figure and waver as the scene brightens. Tall mountains in the background, remnants of Earth Country and its natural border with Waterfall Country, cradle the bright ball through its ascent. The ground Shiro walks upon is flat, covered with tall blades of grass that reach past his ankles and tickle his knees as he walks. In the yellow sky, the clouds flatten out and curve away from the sun, travelling faster than they normally do.

For two days, Shiro has traversed the landscape between Haven Country, Rock Country, and Waterfall Country, each possessing its own unique essence in plant life and people. Even the air he breathes differs in scent with each border crossing. The higher altitudes of Rock Country’s mountains allowed Shiro to experience crisp winds. When compared to Haven Country, there is a distinct difference between the air of the low rolling hills and the tall mountains that Shiro had hiked. The fog of the clouds thinned near the higher altitudes but he did not venture so far as to decrease his own oxygen supply. As the clouds thinned with ascension, Shiro periodically descended the mountains to breathe in full once again. Of all of his experiences in Rock Country, Shiro’s only regret is that he could not see the rain of small boulder’s down the mountains as they are written of in texts. Research on the village of Iwagakure and its country portrayed the scene quite well, highlighting these occurrences of step rolling rocks ranging from pebbles to nearly human sized formations.

When entering Moon Country, scenery began taking on a look similar to that of Haven. Though the landscape lacks the hills of Shiro’s home village, the grass flourishes in the same way. The wind obtains its own scents through the course of a day, Shiro has noticed. Ranging from pine needles to lake plants depending on location, a gradient is formed from morning to evening. When setting up a tent to retire to sleep in, the scent permeates the fabric ever so mildly that quality of rest is enhanced. This could have been a phenomenon, Shiro had thought, but through second and third experiences, the effect holds. Sleep is simply easier here in these fields with the pleasant aroma. Just the night before, Shiro’s slumber was as quiet and peaceful as slow clouds that drifted past the bright moon on that night. It could very well be that the similarities in air quality bring Shiro’s mind back to Hoshigakure and his emotions of homesickness are eased to the point that he forgets his surroundings entirely. “But a simple aroma isn’t so strong that it can alter my sense of awareness, it’s no genjutsu.” Shiro reasoned with himself while climbing into a dark blue sack, his sleeping bag, hours in the past. “Or is my longing for home really so strong that I would allow myself to lose focus on my mission? Am I not ready for a chuunin level operation? Was Tehniyat wrong to give me her charity in the form of lifting me forward despite my losing the arena examination?”

Shiro’s steps slow and his hands curl into fists. His head hangs to look down at the moving tall grass. Mild annoyance at his thoughts grow into disdain. With the ability, he would banish these shameful ideas from his mind, lock them away, hide himself from what he believed to be the truth by keeping it from getting any closer to reality. The more Shiro denies its falsehood, the stronger it returns after making him believe that it is gone. It’s a curse he has put on himself by interpreting Tehniyat’s act of goodwill as one of mere sympathy. It’s a haunting that he has allowed himself to succumb to for the past few days.

“I’m already out here.” His steps pick up in pace once more. “The mission has started. If I were to turn back now, what would the village think of me? I would be the genin who bit off more than he could chew. The genin who, despite all odds, attempted to break his glass ceiling only to cut himself trying. To walk back now would mean giving up. Odds are that the higher-ups won’t give me missions appropriate for my ability as a ninja. They would give me even more pity and mercy than I have already been given…”

A landscape unlike the rest of the grasslands and forests shows itself in the distance, a field of short and jagged uneven surfaces. It is too far off to clearly see and it may very well be a few fallen trees but it cannot be finalized. As Shiro makes his way closer, he notices the atmosphere around the site. Small clouds of dust are kicked up every now and then only to float back down in a different place of the same grounds.

“A village.” Shiro squints into the distance and discerns the possible identities of the anomaly in the soft plains. “Fallen trees maybe, but unlikely. How many trees would have to fall in order to create a scene this wide across? And unless the disturbance was recent, the trees should have decayed, hollowed out, and crumbled before my finding them.”

The closer he gets to the area of interest, the clearer it becomes. In the past hours, the sun has risen considerably, providing ample light for observation. Shiro’s distance has shortened enough to see through the thin dust clouds periodically picked up by short gusts the scurry past. Through the particles, textures and size can be determined by the naked eye.

“No, concrete. That’s crushed stone.” From a squint, Shiro’s eyes widen to become normally open again, taking in as much of the sight as possible. In this great plain peppered with thick woods here and there, masses of concrete lie stopped in time. A great expanse, Shiro sees, is covered in the dust and broken stone of the village Tengakure surrounded by cracked and fallen lumbers. No gate greets him as he crosses the severely undefined and tarnished border between the former village and untamed wilderness. This line has become so blurred that Shiro hesitates to call what is left before him even a shell of a civilization.

Shiro stops part way between the outline of the village gates in the ground and what seems to be the foundation of a fallen building. His breaths are slow and controlled, careful not to inhale the fine powder that floats around him like a veal and envelopes nearly every corner of the perimeter. It sticks to his face every now and then but is too light to irritate the skin. Shiro’s head turns side to side in slow sweeps, understanding his environment before fixing his eyes straight ahead and continuing onward.

(1,157/1,157)

(2,720/8,000 towards mission completion)

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Mon Oct 17, 2016 5:03 pm

Please post an exit from the topic. <3

Mon Oct 17, 2016 5:06 pm

Approved <3

Arrival in Tengakure no Sato

Arrival in Tengakure no Sato

Re: Arrival in Tengakure no Sato

Re: Arrival in Tengakure no Sato