| Shelter... |
| There.. a hidden path lay on the land of the Dagat Ninja clan. A shroud of bamboo past the hotsprings towering around the area of training, making a natural wall of sorts. The hotsprings bubbled lightly, steam rising from the rippling surfaces, and the sound of students within the dojo itself echoed as fists beat into canvas bags filled with heavy sand. Other students wandered the gardens, tending to the various flowers, setting every small stone into a certain, well planned place. Not one pebble was misplaced. A large rake ran swirls across the white sands at either side of the large dojo, swirling around stones carefully placed. The tree's within the garden remained cut and trimmed to perfection, and long shelves along the wall of the dojo remained bonzai tree's, slowly growing to the Japanese.. Chinese standards. The kunoichi of this dojo roamed the trails silently, their feminine bodies masked by the speed their feet carried them. Raven hair of one fluttered behind her, whilst the dark brown hair of another remained neatly kept as a braid behind her head. Children fluttered through the straight long, slender board bridges that wound around the pond nearby. Waters rushed vertically against many rocks of the small waterfall that lead into that same pond, the bridge winding beneath it at one point, only to lead out at another. The goldfish living within this large pond swam unbothered by the children whom remained on dry ground, swimming gracefully to gather food. The Mejin stepped forth, his eyes narrowed lightly to the bamboo line before quietly he slipped towards a path that led through this bamboo forest. Hanging at his left side, his arm swayed in time with his steps, his right arm held.. as if slung, within his gi. His kasa remained upon his head, sheilding from the rebellious rays that seeped through the canopy above. Every minute detail came to the Sensei's gaze as his form stepped through the path, only to stop at the first fork he met. A left path.. a right path. Turning to the right, he stepped forth, walking gracefully, silently through it. His steps were unheard, not hindering the natural music that nature orchestrated every single day of Her life. Something to admire. The Second fork appeared, and the Sensei looked.. left.. or right. Left. His body turned towards the path, walking it slowly before stopping in silence at the path's center. Two boulders at either side of the path. "Gateway to Reclusion" one read, the arrow pointing for to the paths sudden left turn. Turning to the right boulder, he stepped past it into the bamboo. A mere forty cubits ahead, the first of dozens of stones marked the path. Each with a small japanese symbol reading "Peace". He continued strolling the path, taking the necessary small winds before reaching the shelter itself. Stepping up the steps that lead to the narrow bridge like porch, he looked upon the place in silence. What was inside.. everyone knew. The trap door beneath the North-easternmost table, the rooms beneath, the weapons, the supplies, and the path leading to the opposite face of the Dagat Mountain. The Sensei looked.. everything was good. |