Playing with the Sand

With cupped hands, the full grown man brought more and more sand closer together. It was interesting to him that the material was earth itself, yet was so malleable. Hundreds of years of erosion by water, wind and more earth, caused the deterioration of closely knit rock formations onto this conglomerate of tiny grains. It was fascinating. That something as great as the walls that surrounded the Sunagakure could be crumbled by the elements by sheer and continuous assault. What was the lesson here?

Perseverance, in the face of overwhelming odds, would topple anyone too unyielding to adapt to their circumstances of their time. And the remnants would be nothing but fine sands, left to be scattered to the winds, stepped upon by the nomads trying to find shelter among whichever rock had not crumbled yet. To be played upon by a full grown man, squatting on a park, building a mound. Just earlier, he had excavated a path underneath where the mount would soon be stacked upon. It was a simple thing, really, and something he would’ve done back in Earth Country when he was a wee lad with his friends. Friends. What a peculiar word.

Kaworu looked at the tiny mound, above the tunnel. He stepped on it, collapsing it, then moved away.