Sand crunched underneath his feet and the low-hanging sun scorched his sweat-drenched face as Rokumaru walked through the endless badlands of Kaze no Kuni, a few miles west of Sunagakure. His simple jackal-leather pack weighed heavy on his back, stuffed to the brim with the water and rations needed to survive the days he would spend in the dangerous desert. The young Genin climbed a tall dune of sand, grasping handfuls of the finely-divided rocks and minerals to aid his cramping leg muscles, and stopped at the top to catch his breath as he took in the view.

Dusk was approaching the quiet Land of Wind, night ready to shift the massive arid desert from unbearably hot to freezing cold. Rokumaru had left his village for a training trip only hours earlier, and the long walk through the wilderness was as uneventful as it was unbearable. 'And I still have a long distance to go,' he speculated if the directions his older sister gave him were correct. From his vantage point on the dune Rokumaru could spy nothing but endless miles of sand, sand dunes, and the occasional lonely cactus sucking whatever nutrients it can from the merciless climate. Behind him, to the east, the Village Hidden in Sand lived up to it's name as tall dunes and raging sandstorms obscured the horizon. He lifted his hand to shade his dry eyes as he scanned the horizon until he found the marker he was looking for: a single cactus with each of it's two high limbs cleaved in half between two prominent dunes, the sun setting directly behind it blinding him with it's glare.

Rokumaru set his pack on the ground beside him and retrieved one of the five bottles of water by the litre, taking a long drink draining half of the precious liquid. To be honest he had not been traveled far, but a combination of the unbearable heat and his own low stamina made a few miles seem like hundreds. Roku knew he would need to develop his endurance to a higher degree, at the moment his physical abilities were hardly better than an average civilian's, but that could wait for another day. With a sigh full of exasperation he placed the water back in has pack and slung the pouch over his shoulder, then slid down the dune to continue his long trek.

The path Rokumaru walked had felt the feet of hundreds of Sabaku shinobi over countless generations, though the dry winds that whipped his face disguised any trace of the footsteps he left as soon as his boots left the surface. He was not told what he would find in the remote clearing he was searching for, only to follow a trail of cacti with broken limbs until he reached his destination. This was not the first time Rokumaru left the village to train, but his previous sabbaticals never extended outside seeing distance of the walls of Suna. Now, he would be traveling 15 miles west of the village to an obscure training ground used by members of his clan. He kept a close eye out for dangerous wildlife, but most had fled to their home in preparation for the cold spring night.

As he approached the cactus with it's missing limbs, Rokumaru took in its full glory; the plant was hundreds of years old, a much longer life than was expected for a Saguaro, obviously maintained using chakra or some other supernatural method. It was a monster of a being, well over 90 feet tall only topped by the hundred-foot dunes on either side, and standing under it Rokumaru felt dwarfed by its sheer size. How anyone managed to reach it's limbs to cut them off was anyone's guess, but the young Suna-nin chalked it up to some sort of Wind jutsu. The Sand Village had an excess in Fuuton users, and how clean and precise the cuts were left few other options.

Rokumaru left the cactus behind and continued walking west, the sun searing his face forcing him to keep his eyes to the ground ahead of him. He was glad he left his gourd back in his home; until he could find someone to create a seal for it the container was just a hassle to carry around, and there was no shortage of sand to be found in the desert. He was also glad he hadn't come across any of the numerous wolf packs that prowled the wastes around the village; to his chagrin Rokumaru knew he had no serious jutsu to fight off the hungry predators, if they met the best he could do was lay out an Earth Flow River and hightail it as fast as he could. He wasn't willing to bet he could get close enough to use any of his shuriken or a kunai without getting a large chunk taken out of his legs. The training he was making this trek to do would hopefully allow him to use his elements to a higher degree, and allow him to learn a few stronger techniques.

The terrain beyond the first cactus and the surrounding dunes was a flat expanse of sand, but in the distance Rokumaru could see more of the hills that were common in the country. It took him nearly 15 minutes to walk the mile and a half to the dunes ahead, all while the sun slowly sunk further and further down the horizon until only a quarter of it's burning mass could be seen through a squint. While the young Sabaku didn't own a digital watch he had seen many of his more wealthy family members own, the position of the descending sun relative to the spring sky told him it was between 1900 and 2000 hours in the evening. If he wanted to make it to the training ground soon he would need to hurry, and despite his aching leg muscles Rokumaru broke into a quick jog with each hand holding his pack tight to his body, the bottles of water sloshing loudly with each step.

As he approached the dunes Roku used a bit of chakra to adhere his feet to the constantly-shifting sand underneath in order to climb rapidly, hoping to get his journey over with as quickly as possible. The dune was shorter than most others and he made it to the top, coming directly face-to-needle with a Saguaro cactus as short as he was. The pins protecting the plant forced the young teen to a halt almost instantly as Rokumaru jumped back in pain, his forehead the only undamaged are of his face due to the Suna headband with red straps he wore, and with a loud curse he tore the needles poking from his skin out roughly. His eyelids stopped any pins from entering his fragile eyes, thankfully,  and those wounds bled the least when all piercings had left his body. This couldn't have been an accident; who puts a cactus right in the path I'm walking at the top of a dune where I can't see? Taking a look around to make sure he was alone, Rokumaru let out a sigh to see his embarrassment had gone completely unseen.

Now focused once again, minus the hand that was absently wiping the drops of blood peeking out of his wounds, Rokumaru studied this cactus. It confirmed he was on the right path; six limbs sticking out from all sides each were sliced in half, just as clean as the previous one was cut, but Rokumaru could see grains of sand stuck inside the cuts as though the sand itself cut up the cactus. He also spotted deep cuts and stab marks all over the body of the plant, looking like many different people had stabbed and slashed it in anger with Sabaton jutsu, not the Fuuton he had previously thought. The bits of dried blood the young man spied towards the base of the cactus told him he was not the first to walk face-first into the spiny needles, much to his relief. It was likely that this was some sort of hazing experience for any young Sabaku making their way here to train, probably some sort of joke at their expense. It would certainly explain the wounds his older siblings would return with on their first training trip outside the village. It filled him with a sort of pride that almost overpowered the stinging in his face.

Stepping around the cactus in question, Roku stood once again at the top of the dune and looked down to the area ahead of him. What he saw gave him no small amount of relief; he was standing on one part of a massive circle of dunes encompassing a flat crater in the sand, and directly in the middle the young man spied the final cactus perched directly atop a cave opening at a steep angle directly into the ground, only about 5 feet wide. The sun had entered it's final moments in the sky, and could not be seen over the sand hill directly across the crater from where he stood. Feeling revitalized from having finally reached his destination, Rokumaru jumped off the dune and slid down the long hill on his back with a sense of child-like enthusiasm. The quick movement and his feet skidding across the sand launched small granules at his face, but a steady application of his Sand Control parted the offending minuscule rocks to either side of his head. After about 10 seconds of sand sledding the dune evened out into the crater, and Rokumaru broke off into a run as soon as his feet were at a 180 degree angle.

The crater was only roughly 60 feet across and Roku quickly reached the cave before he stopped, not caring that the short spring sapped the oxygen from his lungs as he panted while looking at the final cactus atop the dark cave. This specimen was the median of it's two previous brothers, 30 feet tall and having four parallel limbs on each side of it's narrow frame. Each was cut at a 45 degree angle sloping towards it's body, likely more blades of sand used by Sabaton users to mark the way. Edging closer to the mouth of the cave Rokumaru cautiously looked in, and was somewhat surprised by what he saw.

The narrow cave entrance led to a finely-crafted sandstone staircase, likely hundreds of years old descending into the darkness and the walls were smooth and perfectly vertical, made of the same well-made material. The steps themselves were carved with images of simple stick-figure people in a line from either side, leading to a carved horizontal oval in the middle. Inside the oval was a much more detailed figure; a fat creature between two pillars, it's single tail wrapped around the right one as the figure looked left with it's sharp-toothed jagged maw open. It's eyes were carved deep with only a single untouched circle of sandstone in the middle to represent it's pupil, and two pointed ears poked out low from either side of it's head. Rokumaru lost himself in the twisting lines carved in it's rotund body, and only noticed the tiny but detailed figure of a young person standing before the monstrous being to it's left, likely the target of the creatures roaring. The figure, likely a child due to the large head and short limbs, was holding it's belly that was carved with a circle of ornate lines, and the young man guessed it was a seal.

Rokumaru could not call himself a Sabaku if he did not know what this scene depicted; the fat creature was the Incarnation of Sand, Ichibi no Shukaku, once the most dangerous being in all of Kaze no Kuni. The figure sharing the carved oval was a jinchuuriki that once contained the Monster Tanuki, one that was a direct ancestor of his and the reason his clan could hold any control over the sand. This cave he was about to enter was likely much older than even Sabaku no Gaara was, a remnant of the ancient days when the Bijuu were first sealed into human vessels. He was looking at a piece of history itself, and it replaced the enthusiasm he had a moment earlier with a sense of dread. What significance did this cave have to the Ichibi?

The light from the sun was quickly becoming less and less, and Rokumaru knew night was only minutes away from coming. He could see only a few feet down the cave, but he decided he would finish his journey and see what the place had in store. With a bit of guilt he placed his left foot on the first step, directly atop the carved Shukaku, and cautiously began to descend the staircase.

Each step was precisely the same length and height as the one before so Rokumaru had no problem making his way down as he became enveloped in total darkness, his hand tracing the wall for support as he took slow steps into the abyss. The stairs seemed to stretch on forever; attempting to count them left Roku amazed as he lost count somewhere in the three-hundreds. The air around him grew colder and colder to a temperature the desert-dweller had never felt before, signaling he was deep underneath the earth hundreds of feet. The wall his hand was touching slowly shifted from a smooth surface to a sort of carving he wished he could look upon, but the only source of light he had was the tinder and handheld lighter buried at the bottom of his pack. Perhaps another time he could see what was carved on the walls to either side of him, but for now he was eager to see what was at the bottom of the staircase.

The Suna Genin walked for 5 minutes before he began to see light below him, a dull blue color that could not have been sunlight. His steps remained slow as not to fall, and as he drew closer the area around him began to grow in visibility. Each step was carved with the same images at the one at the entrance of the cave, but the walls to each side and low ceiling above him were ornate and obscure seals that twisted and overlapped in helix shapes, their meaning lost on the young man as he had no knowledge whatsoever in Fuinjutsu. He traced the symbols with his right hand as he descended further towards the light, until he reached a sandstone door with a crescent moon in the center pouring the blue light from behind the door. He pushed the single iron bar spanning its width, and the door creaked open on rusty iron hinges bathing him in light.

Inside was a massive cave hundreds of feet tall, with strange bio-luminescent mushrooms the source of the blue light illuminating the expanse. The cave was completely circular, as though an architect had carved it all himself, and the ceiling looked to be unsteady sand that left falling streams of it's material that also made up its floor. The ceiling looked as though at any minute it would come crashing down atop his head, but besides the pillars falling sand it held strong against gravity. The air itself was cold and moist, but it had an aspect to it that left Rokumaru feeling uneasy. He was in a cave underneath the desert itself, and nothing about it gave him the feeling that it was naturally formed.

He closed the sandstone door behind him with a slow creaking, happy to see another iron bar would allow him to open it from this side, and stepped across the soft sandy floor to the center of the cave. Though he was a Suna-nin and lived in the desert all his life, this was almost too much sand for him; the floor, ceiling, even the walls, everything was loose sand. The mushrooms that gave off the blue glow seemed to sprout from the walls like soil, and he would make sure to inspect those closer at a later time.

Now, though, he felt his awe from discovering the cave transition to the exhaustion from the hours-long hike he had just undertaken, and quickly set about making camp for the night. He took the straps of his pack off his shoulders and set the pouch on the ground, flipping it's top open and taking all five bottles of water out one by one. Setting those to the side Rokumaru retrieved a wrapped package of dried snake-meat, spiced and cooked the day before before he had left it salted in the sun to dry, and placed it next to the bottles. Next came his bedroll, soft leather his father had given him upon returning from Konoha in his childhood, and that was unrolled to it's full length in front of him. He had expected to be sleeping under the night sky at a training ground so he had brought tools to build a fire, but now he was unsure how ventilated the cave was and did not want to saturate the air with smoke. He placed the dry wood and his lighter back into his pack, and retrieved the books he was in the process of reading.

His pack closed up and placed to his right, Rokumaru tucked himself into the sleeping bag and grabbed his pouch of snake jerky. There was about a pound of the meat taken from a few of the creatures he had the misfortune of meeting when he stepped into their den in the sand, and if not for his high boots the snakes would probably be enjoying him instead. With a grin at that particular memory Roku retrieved a few strips and resealed the package, sticking one in his mouth to chew the tough strip while he cracked open a book.

Doton and It's Applications the title read, written by a renowned Iwa-nin from decades past who made a fortune off the instruction-manual. Doton was one of, if not the most important elemental nature needed to control his Sabaton, as sand itself was a form of earth. Rokumaru had learned the bare essentials of it from the Academy and further details from his tutors, but it was up to himself if he wished to expand on his knowledge. He glanced over the author's note at the beginning, not having looked at it when he was given the book, but it contained things he wasn't interested like a quick autobiography and thanks to several people the author was close to. He skipped to the first chapter, and using the glowing mushrooms as a light source he began to read.

The first chapter detailed the origins of Doton jutsu, first used by the tribals of Tsuchi no Kuni in the days before the first Hidden Villages. Using the area around them Iwa shinobi could shape the land itself and bend it to their will, flowing their chakra out of their body to manipulate stone, dirt and mud. It was little after this that techniques to create earth from their own body using minerals from food and water, able to expel solid rock or spouts of mud from any orifice- though the mouth quickly became the preferred exit point. Users of Doton jutsu could wrap their body in solid stone armor, create golems capable of independent movement, or even temporarily shift their body parts into stone itself. It was most powerful against Raiton due to it's ability to dampen the electrical pulses, and thankfully this extended to his Sabaton as well.

Rokumaru was familiar with creating earth from his body, capable of using the Earth Flow River technique to create a viscous mud that left a bad taste in his mouth, and it was the cornerstone to moving his sand around with his chakra. As long as it was the right density and was not too moist, the sand could be moved with Doton chakra into powerful techniques.

He read on further about the founding of Iwa by the first Tsuchikage, Ishikawa, a strong Doton user who could use the elemental nature to make his body lighter than the air around him, allowing the powerful shinobi to fly through the air. A powerful jutsu, but one lost to even Iwa-nin today. The Village Hidden in Stone is one of the most powerful villages of the five today, many strong clans calling the mountainous settlement home, and it's proximity to Suna led to numerous altercations between the two. Rokumaru had never met an Iwa-nin, but he was more than ready to hate them just on principle alone.

He took a moment away from the book and set it down beside his bedroll, placing another strip of the tough snake meat between his teeth and closed his eyes to focus. The sand under him shifted, his powers in Sabaton still very weak, but after a few seconds it began to move from under him towards every side of the bedroll, forming soft walls that surrounded its frame. His body sunk a few inches lower as the sand beneath him became less numerous, and the end result was a rather cozy hole that only opened up at the top as not to completely cover him. He shook his head, freeing the sand caught in his long red locks that irritated him. Rokumaru may have an affinity for the finely grounded up rocks, but like anyone else having the offensive material caught in his hair and clothes was uncomfortable. That's not even mentioning how often his mouth is filled with the substance.

With his body and bedroll now encased in sand Rokumaru felt much warmer than before, the moist and cold cave air now only cooling his exposed face and upper chest as the rest of him was insulated by the loose sand around him, feeling satisfied like a snake in it's nest. Speaking of, he reached over the sand to his right and ate another of the reptile strip, feeling the spices of pepper and sage warm his tongue while his teeth went to work on the tough, chewy meat. Roku was familiar with toothbrushes and the tubes of paste used to clean his teeth, which kept his teeth healthy and a bright white color, but when he chose not to bring those a bit of the rough meat would work the bacteria and grime off them almost as well.

Despite the amount of effort it took Rokumaru to travel through the desert to find this place, he could not find it in himself to settle down for bed. His eyes studied the bio-luminescent mushrooms from afar as they gave off their dark blue coloring, and they were something Roku had never seen before in all his time in Kaze no Kuni. He wondered if they were an invasive species, or had been brought from another land and transplanted all around the cave in order to bathe it in light. How anyone had found this cave in the first place was something he could merely guess at, but he wondered if the One-Tail had anything to do with it.

The Ichibi was a subject every Sunagakure civilian was forced to study, but his place as a Sabaku required Rokumaru to learn all that he could about the being his family drew their power from. Once a roamer of the deserts of the Land of Wind, who terrorized the nomads who roamed the dunes from oasis to oasis, no one was sure what had happened to it following the Fourth Shinobi World War. Though it had been extracted from it's seal in his ancestors stomach, which for some odd reason did not rob Sabaku no Gaara of his ability to shape and control sand, no one had come across the massive tanuki in the time since then. His ancestor was the final jinchuuriki of the Ichibi, perhaps for the better as the Incarnation of Sand often forced it's anger and paranoia onto it's container subconsciously.

The story of the Bijuu was a subject that fascinated Rokumaru to know end; a mixture of curiosity about the other-worldly beings and the jealousy of the power that their containers held. As a young boy sitting bored in classes he would daydream about having the monster sealed into his stomach, able to shift sand without a thought rather than the enormous effort it took him to lift a few granules now. He dreamed of using the power to become the most powerful in his village before he even reached adulthood, earning the love of Suna civilians and shinobi alike while striking fear into enemies of the village. He dreamed of red sand painted with blood and entrails like only a naive boy who had never seen either could.

Now, however, Roku could also see the immense drawbacks that came with being the container of such an entity. The sealing of the Ichibi was not a gift: it was a curse on whatever poor child was chosen as its host. Not only were foreigners fearful of such power but family and whatever friends they could make were as well. Shukaku was unstable even in comparison of it's eight siblins, it wreaked havoc on the mind of it's container that often lead to insanity. Rokumaru had read a book written by the Godaime Kazekage regarding his time as its jinchuuriki, and the words on those pages held only a fraction of the hardship his ancestor faced. A weak seal could not hold back the influence of the monster; every dream was a nightmare that lead to unbelievable bouts of insomnia, every motion forced sand to move in dangerous ways that harmed or even killed others when he did not have such intentions. He was a lonely child, unable to make friends with the people of his village, and even his own family tried many times to end his life. It was not a life anyone would want, but eventually with the help of a legendary Konoha-nin Gaara overcame his insanity and gained full control over his abilities. He learned to live for more than just himself, and eventually started a family that culminated in the young man who lay in that very cave.

And what was this cave for? It was obviously very old by the architecture of the staircase and the stone door, and the seals along the walls down to the cave served some sort of purpose he could only guess at, but Rokumaru couldn't call himself a teenage boy if he did not try to wildly speculate. A massive cave hidden under the desert, its ceiling looks like loose sand something could burrow into and it had rough carvings of the Shukaku and a child with seals. If I didn't know any better, I would say this was it's lair of some sort where the old nomads worshiped the thing. But Roku probably did know better, a cave of such significance would be a historical site being pored over by old stuffy historians taking sketches of the carvings and testing the sand on it's moisture and pH or something like that. Instead he guessed it was a shrine to the Ichibi, appropriated by the Sabaku when one came across it to serve as an alter to their patron-spirit.

But that wouldn't explain the pure malevolence Rokumaru could feel in the air. It was as if the very atmosphere of the place was saturated in some sort of dark chakra, a byproduct of some otherworldly being. Could that have been because the Biju spent much time here? Or was it an attempt to draw the creature into a trap, so it could be sealed into making a dangerous jinchuuriki?

Rokumaru shook his head, deciding it wasn't something he would ever have the answer to. The Bijuu had been gone for hundreds of years, if anything it was just an old shrine to the monster while it was around. It was definitely a good place to train, served as a symbol for the heritage of his clan, and was definitely a comfy place to make camp in an otherwise inhospitable desert.

Feeling his eyes start to ache from sheer exhaustion Rokumaru was starting to drift to sleep as his curiosity died out. Picking a strand of snake meat from between his molars with a fingernail, the young Genin pulled the top of the bedroll over his head and slowly slipped into a rather comfortable slumber.

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Roku's dream that night was like none other he had before. He could feel the harsh desert sun warming his back as he ran through the dunes on all four legs, chasing tiny humans like a cat does a mouse and squishing cacti under his paws. He recognized the area where Sunagakure was supposed to be but no buildings or curtain wall was in sight. Had he been more perceptive, or had experience in lucid dreaming that didn't involve his carnal desires, Rokumaru would have noted he was seeing Kaze no Kuni in a time before Hashirama Senju began the era of the Hidden Villages. Instead he embraced the power he felt in his dream, gobbling up frightened people with spears and batting aside massive cacti with a single swipe.

This continued for a very long time, and when the young Sabaku awoke he had never felt more refreshed. Rokumaru, like any young person his age, absolutely abhorred waking up early in the morning, but something about today was so very different. His eyes crept open as the ceiling of loose sand shined bright from the morning sun, completely overpowering the glowing mushrooms as it seemed like the cave was somewhere close to the surface. His legs burned with the satisfying feeling that came with any workout. He didn't even mind the feeling of sand in his hair, simply shaking it off as he opened his bedroll and sat up.

Indeed, the cave was now illuminated like it wasn't hundreds of feet below the surface, Rokumaru was surprised he hadn't been woken up as soon as the sun replaced it's cosmic brother. He pulled himself to his feet and picked his bedroll up, holding it upside down and shaking it to remove any sand trying to hitch a ride. Satisfied he had gotten it all the boy rolled his bed up, tying it closed with a thick piece of string and placing it into his leather pack off to the side. He retrieved another two books and placed them with his Doton manual, and after a few stretches to shake away his sleep Rokumaru was ready to train.

He now saw why the cave was a preferred training ground for his clan; the sand around him was soft and very fine-grained, a bit more moist than what was ideal but still good enough to practice with. Picking up his books, as well as a few strips of snake meat for breakfast, he took a seat and skipped through the Doton manual to the training section.

The basis of any Earth style technique was pouring his chakra into the minerals around him; a bit of concentration allowed Rokumaru to feel the grains of sand around him, moving a bit just to ensure his connection was secure. The moisture in the sand made this a bit difficult as it weighed each individual grain down, but using his Suiton he stole what moisture was inside making the sand dry and brittle. Roku was lucky his clan had a predisposition towards three different Elemental Releases, as it took many other shinobi much time and effort to learn brand-new ones. Even if it made him unable to learn Katon or Raiton, he had the means to overcome those natures with Suiton and Doton respectively.

Having used Earth to connect with the sand, and Water to reduce it to the correct consistency, Rokumaru used Air to overcome gravity and help propel his sand around to boost his Doton. He could only imagine how powerful his ancestors had been to not need to rely on the natures so much, to feel so connected to Sabaton. Rokumaru could feel the drain on his chakra that came with using his unique Elemental Release, thankfully only a trickle compared to what it took to actually use any useful jutsu.

He practiced forming the sand into different kinds of shapes, making perfect cubes and cylinders out of the grainy material only a few inches in size. These were rather easy to do compared to much more complex shapes but it served as a good warm-up for his abilities. Feeling a bit more connected, Rokumaru fashioned larger and more detailed shapes; a favorite of his was to make pyramids out of individual blocks of sand, laying them atop each other until he had a structure taller than his head. When he was a boy Roku dreamed about using his powers to create giant pyramids in the desert that dwarfed any building he had been in, but now as a teen he realized how useless such a task would be. Maybe in the future he could make one to serve as a mausoleum for his corpse, or maybe a few to store grain in.

He left those pyramids standing as he tried forming statues out of sand. He made a few snakes and spiders, despite how much he detested the creatures, just so he could stomp them back out of shape. It didn't give him a fraction of the satisfaction he felt doing the same to real specimens, but Roku wasn't one to complain. He formed a life-size model of himself, although a much more idealized version with larger muscles and an unrealistically large bulge in the sandy-trousers, and Rokumaru had to hold in a few tears when gazing upon such a beautiful masterpiece. Of course his jealousy overcame his vanity and he was forced to destroy his creation, unable to handle seeing what sort of creature he should have been for more than a few minutes.

He made a few more models of people in his life; his father he hadn't seen in a few months since the man's business trip to Hi no Kuni with his square chin and kind smile, his kunoichi mother with long locks of hair colored tan rather than the authentic dark-red. His parents were very important to him, his mother was his role model with how strong her Sabaton was despite her retired status, and his father always returned from his merchant trips with tales of the lands he had visited and the interesting people he met. They were both in their late-forties, Roku's oldest sibling being a civilian with children of his own, yet they didn't seem to stop having children with their 8th on the way.

A statue of his favorite sibling followed these: Sana, the third child of the current seven, a kind and lively woman despite her occupation as a dangerous Suna-nin. Rokumaru took great care in detailing the cloak she often wore that hid her surprisingly soft-frame, carving the cherry-blossom petals that decorated the back, and felt no need to embellish her assets in any way. It was no secret that Sana was one of the most beautiful women of all the Sabaku; Roku to this day wondered when she would settle down and accept one of the many suitors that threw themselves at her on a daily basis. In a deep and well-suppressed part of his mind Roku himself lusted after his family member, but he was never going to let that slip from its prison. There was no shortage of pretty girls his age in the village of Suna, more than enough to occupy his mind on lonely nights. Perhaps he'd give that blacksmith's pretty daughter a visit when he visits the Bazaar next time, ask her out to the Dragon's Tongue so they could immolate their taste buds together. Even if that burly old smith did scare him senseless.

And of course, Rokumaru had to pay homage to the being that his clan derived their power from. Clearing each of the statues away as he needed room, Roku began collecting sand together to attempt making a massive construct. He formed four paws about ten feet from each other, forming sharp claws that adorned all twelve toes, and worked up from their. The back two legs were folded while the front two were straight, giving the creature a sitting position. But Roku could feel the limits of his power creeping on him, unable to lift the sand high enough to begin forming the tanuki's body. He was surprised the previous statues came out so detailed; either his control over his elements were beginning to grow or the cave made it easier to use them. Likely it was both.

Rokumaru tried to keep the statue together as beads of sweat began to drip down his face, but it was too much. The massive legs crashed down on themselves threatening to bury the boy had he not jumped away, as though the Ichibi refused to allow itself to be constructed by Roku.

Feeling himself soaked with sweat from his efforts, Rokumaru took a seat next to his pack and finished off a bottle of water as he took a break.