Watch Duty

Watch duty was rather boring. Here Damon sat outside the tent while Yurei, the more medically experienced of the two, tended to his wounds the best they could. That is not to say that Yurei had superior medical training, but rather, that Damon had none at all. His head drooped beneath his bent knee into the crevice of his arm and he released a breath that tickled his nose. The waiting game was not fun, yet it was usually necessary. It seemed to be a growing concern that others in the world were growing more and more used to instant gratification, results, and answers to their desires. People were less and less patient, often growing erratic whenever their every need was not immediately satiated. People, Damon thought as he looked out at the blanket of snow, were far too prone to outbursts. If I am no longer prone to these outbursts, he raised his hand to his heart to see if it was still beating, am I still truly capable of calling myself a person?

Damon closed his eyes to shield them from the cold wind that picked up once again. The biting wind chilled him to the core. Windchill from the outside, and an icy loneliness on the inside. He had Yurei, yes, as well as Esu, and now apparently Komon as well. But, there was still the inner dread that exists when one finds themselves on the outside of the world looking in. An inner dread that Damon might still have not come to terms with.

WC: 258

His thoughts were interrupted as the tent flap was opened, allowing for Esu to stride out of it, before being closed once again behind him. “No sign of change just yet, huh?” Damon called out to the canine, not quite sure what he was expecting by doing so. Esu looked towards the sound of his voice and stared at him with his beady eyes before making a noise like he was clearing his throat and walked a few more paces forwards before laying his body to the cold ground. His observant head came to rest on his outstretched paws in front of him, but his eyes remained alert and open while his ears stood tall, ready to pick up any stray noise.

Damon breathed hot breath into his partially gloved hands and rubbed them together for warmth. A fire would be nice, he thought to himself. He possessed the ability as well, but knew it would not be the wisest course of action. Unfortunately, the trail of smoke would easily give away their position. He stood up, looking back towards the tent, which had been set up in a slight divot in the ground for as much cover as possible. Longing for something to do, he turned to Esu. “Keep an eye out, boy.” The dog raised his head and looked at Damon, but did not lower it again. Instead, he seemed to scan their surroundings. The Uchiha, in the meanwhile, gathered snow along the edge of the divot, building up a ridge around their encampment for some more natural camouflage.

WC: 261
TWC: 519

The task successfully completed, he paced the circumference of their campground. A faint chakra, practically invisible against the bright snow, dimly shone through the tent walls. Progress, Damon thought. Healing was a process of which he knew little to nothing. His brows furrowed as his expression fell. It felt like a part of him was missing, the long forgotten space/time arts weighing him down. Could he, over time, reclaim that aspect of himself and perhaps even swap to the medical specialty himself? Over the last few years, his specialization had devolved into just ninjutsu, the art of combat and elements, as well as genjutsu, the art of deception. One for manipulating reality, one for creating a false reality. 

His hand rose to caress the space around one of his eyes. One, which possessed the flames of Amaterasu, the ability to control black, unquenchable inferno that burned all in their path. The other eye, one possessing Tsukuyomi, the ability to control the minds of those who cast their unfortunate gaze into his inky black darkness. Lastly, there was Susano’o, the nigh invincible armor of the gods that formed when both his Mangekyo worked in tandem with one another. All this power at his fingertips, no, at the mere flick of his eyes. Yet, he was only useful in the moment, in combat. There was nothing he could do outside of battle. Having escaped a home that turned against him, all these years had done was to turn him into a mere weapon.

WC: 252
TWC: 771

Moonlight shown upon Damon, reflecting in the water within his eyes. Those dark eyes captured the satellite so finely as to see every crater and mountain, scratch and phase. It was bitterly cold out, the pale sky making for a blue snowscape. Yurei had been taking watch and making surveillance runs in the mornings, leaving Damon to do it at night by his own requests. Of the two, Yurei was the more resilient to the weather, but Damon had always found it easier to focus at night, even in the harsh cold and harsher Snow Country. 

His breath left his lungs, trailing off as it glinted in the air. He clasped his hands together, warming them with his breath before standing. He looked to his left, dark eyes shifting to red. The tent was undisturbed and motionless, save for a faint, warm light emitting from the tapestry. Yurei must have finally gone to sleep. The red glow from his eyes faded, leaving them white from the moonlight once again. He stood dozens of meters from the campsite atop a small mountain, one of many in the country after the sweeping tundras and white plateaus - a surprisingly diverse country in all but weather. 

Damon stretched, rubbing his eyes. Even using his three tomoe Sharingan had become dully painful. Things were still slow, and the pain in his head and behind his eyes had only stretched out the last week unbearably long. Still, it could be worse, and the chilling night air made it easier to focus on being cold rather than the Sharingan.


WC: 262
TCW: 1033

The weather was particularly cold tonight, more than any other Damon had spent in Snow Country. The gleaming stars and bright moonlight had been eclipsed by a coming storm, though no snow had fallen from it. The fainted shimmers of like permeated through the sky, showing just how rapidly the clouds that hung above the Uchiha were moving. They raced as if they had somewhere to go - some determined destination they were compelled to drive towards.

And here Damon sat, alone and still. He blinked, watching as the dwindling light fell from the sky, and the thick clouds obscured the full moon. His eyes fell, then his face. He looked to the distance - the mountainscape, though his eyes only carried him just before himself. It was too dark - pitch - to see. Had he not memorized the path he had taken, he would have to wait until morning and likely freeze in the process. But this had been one of many nights he had followed this routine. The Sharingan was adept at tracking movements, the flow of chakra, reflecting it. Translating the technique into traversal was only natural, and it came easy to Damon even without the use of the doujutsu.

Yurei must have been asleep now, with Esu keeping watch of the tent. This put Damon’s mind somewhat at ease. His brother had been deteriorating ever since they left - albeit just physically. Damon, on the other hand, felt as if he and the clouds in the sky couldn’t be more different.


WC: 258
TWC: 1291