1 Fire and Alcohol? Whose idea was this? [Kaguza | Invite Only] Tue Jul 12, 2016 8:33 am
Yang Xiao Long
D-rank
Punch.
Punch punch punch.
Fist connected with a clay pole, wrapped in cotton. Tough as Yang may be, she still wasn’t sure she was ready to sacrifice her hands for the sake of further training, even though she had been taking it harder than normal in recent days. Call it venting her frustration that her search had yielded so little results; her mother was just so elusive! There wasn’t so much anger as much as it was annoyance that every lead she followed, every bar she visited, every broker she interrogated gave her the same answer: that they hadn’t seen a woman like that whatsoever, or just sending her off on another wild goose chase by (probably) suggesting that she try a place halfway around the world.
Yeah, Yang was still mad over having been forced to head all the way to Suna from Konoha’s eastern border, having been redirected from her initial random direction of Kirigakure to Sunagakure when she’d heard that there’d been sightings of a woman who’d dressed nearly identically to the woman in the picture she carried around with her. But of course it was only just another dead end when she came to this hell of a place.
Punch punch punch.
The desert was not good for her. Yang’s clan’s body already meant that she naturally produced more body heat than other people, and this heat from Suna was killing her, since cooling off was near impossible in this desert wasteland bombarded by the constant unforgiving rays of the hot, cruel Sun. Literally, the only places she could find to chill out were the spas and her hotel room, both of which were located in the hotel she’d been lucky to get a room in with some random coupon she’d picked up when she first got to Suna herself. It was good, but at the end of the day, it didn’t help that she was frustrated at the lack of any success in her search.
Her last punch connected with the clay dummy, stopping in its place as she stared at it, lost in thought and shaking herself back to the present. Yeah, that was a good venting. She cracked her knuckles and took a drink of water, having placed her canteen beside the clay dummy that she’d been all but butchering for the last hour. The adrenaline hadn’t kicked in, nor had her tiredness nor the soreness that came from intense workouts, but they would likely arrive in an hour or two when she had lunch back at Sunagakure. The Sandy Arenas were, after all, a ways away from the village itself to avoid accidents.
–455–
Punch punch punch.
Fist connected with a clay pole, wrapped in cotton. Tough as Yang may be, she still wasn’t sure she was ready to sacrifice her hands for the sake of further training, even though she had been taking it harder than normal in recent days. Call it venting her frustration that her search had yielded so little results; her mother was just so elusive! There wasn’t so much anger as much as it was annoyance that every lead she followed, every bar she visited, every broker she interrogated gave her the same answer: that they hadn’t seen a woman like that whatsoever, or just sending her off on another wild goose chase by (probably) suggesting that she try a place halfway around the world.
Yeah, Yang was still mad over having been forced to head all the way to Suna from Konoha’s eastern border, having been redirected from her initial random direction of Kirigakure to Sunagakure when she’d heard that there’d been sightings of a woman who’d dressed nearly identically to the woman in the picture she carried around with her. But of course it was only just another dead end when she came to this hell of a place.
Punch punch punch.
The desert was not good for her. Yang’s clan’s body already meant that she naturally produced more body heat than other people, and this heat from Suna was killing her, since cooling off was near impossible in this desert wasteland bombarded by the constant unforgiving rays of the hot, cruel Sun. Literally, the only places she could find to chill out were the spas and her hotel room, both of which were located in the hotel she’d been lucky to get a room in with some random coupon she’d picked up when she first got to Suna herself. It was good, but at the end of the day, it didn’t help that she was frustrated at the lack of any success in her search.
Her last punch connected with the clay dummy, stopping in its place as she stared at it, lost in thought and shaking herself back to the present. Yeah, that was a good venting. She cracked her knuckles and took a drink of water, having placed her canteen beside the clay dummy that she’d been all but butchering for the last hour. The adrenaline hadn’t kicked in, nor had her tiredness nor the soreness that came from intense workouts, but they would likely arrive in an hour or two when she had lunch back at Sunagakure. The Sandy Arenas were, after all, a ways away from the village itself to avoid accidents.
–455–