A kid in a candy store. That had to be about the closest explanation for how Heiwa was feeling at that moment in time and that was saying something since she normally doesn't let things go to her head quite so easily. Oh this was by no means the first time she was off exploring, but it certainly was the first time she was technically alone - not that she was alone, having traveled to Kumogakure no Sato with Kohaku. But, that didn’t make her any less excited, and nervous, and just generally bubbling with energy: though she hide it all well save for the smile that seemed to be permanently plastered to her face and the extra bounce to her step. Of course, some of this had to do with having made a new friend outside of those whom she had grown up with.

Though, this trip wasn’t all sight seeing and taking notes for the book she was writing, there was a far more important aspect to this trip beyond that. She had been entrusted with a specific task and she was determined to accomplish it to the best of her ability, the fact that she was merely ten years old meant nothing considering she was a little miniature version of her father with just enough of her mother mixed in to make her quite shy and soft spoken as well as a budding medical nin. She was destined to overcome her shyness though as she wouldn’t allow it to defeat her: her father had sent her on an important task and she would accomplish it.

For now though her mind wasn’t on her task as she was taking a break, instead she had found a high spot to perch herself on and was simply seated there indian style watching the people come and go through the market below while nibbling on some candied fruit she had brought with her from home. It was high noon and yet the air lacked the oppressive heat of her homeland, something that had her drawing the red hooded cape she wore around her tightly and adjusting the hood to ensure that not only was her head covered but so too were her fox-like ears, the gesture triggering a memory from shortly before she left, her mother Sephora warning her to keep herself hidden from strangers that couldn’t be trusted. It was something she had driven home on several occasions on the days leading up to them leaving, but which she hadn’t gone into more detail about when questioned, yet the fear she could see in her mother’s eyes when they spoke gave her an insight that it had something to due with what her mother had deemed the ‘bad times’ of her life, the time of her life before she had met Heiwa’s father. Unlike a normal child who might have been defiant once out of eyeshot of their parents Heiwa had instead taken her mother’s warning to heart, keeping her ears and tail as hidden as possible: not that she minded really anyway, it was a bit cool and windy. Thankfully she had changed out of her usual attire, choosing instead something a tad bit more on the ‘modern’ side of things: a white button up blouse overtop of which a brown leather vest was wore. Brown shorts, yellow thigh high warm stockings, and leather boots helped to complete her attire. Though, this was all hidden well enough save for the leather shoulder bag she had with her that carried the various scrolls and quills and notes she had taken as well as her favorite treats and so forth.

As she watched what looked to be a cage covered in cloth get brought out from an alleyway her head would tilt while another piece of candied fruit was popped into her mouth, a look of enjoyment passing over her face at the flavor of the sweet treat. Before picking up another piece she instead focused onto the scroll nearby on which she was keeping notes, jotting down something else at random and adding it to the collection of thoughts and sights she had already seen since her arrival to the village. Afterwards another piece of her sweet treat was popped into her mouth and savored as she continued to silently watch.

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This place. This melting pot of humanity and commerce. He couldn't fathom the intricacies of this place; not really. He understood the basics of commerce, sure; he'd been taught the rules and history of village economics of all kinds, buy that didn't mean he had a knack for actual barter and the merchant life. He was a get in, get what you need, get right back out kind of person. People watching was for other places, high on a mountain hollow or a Spire of electromagnetic rock that no one with a will to live would touch in a sane frame of mind.

Yet, here he was; standing out vividly against the colorful market dressings in his shimmering iridescent purple robes, resplendent in brilliant gold trim and thread; the swirling, dancing dragon seal on the back proudly announcing his clan and his status among them. Even with, he blended into the background of the mental images the locals created of the world. This ecstatic portrayal of his heritage held him perfectly camouflaged within this land; everyone was so used to seeing and ignoring the thunder monks that they ceased to exist in a way. Perfect for them, it would make the exodus far more simple. “Anything of interest, Fox-child?” He was his father's son afterall, and his father tended toward strange descriptors for people instead of using proper names. When appropriate or given permission, depending. He was capable of being fully respectful, he just preferred his own way, and Kohaku was fond of it as well. It was fully meant to be playful and friendly, of course.

He watched her more than the people of this place, making his own mental notes of things; although in his case, it was locations of shinies, animals, toy dealers, cousins and brothers (of which many floated unseen, others with cousins in tow, not so much), etc. Information only useful to him, really. He was eyeing a large ‘decorative’ spinning top that looked like it could be of use to him. A new toy to play with would be nice. There was a strange item at a rope vendor that was catching his eye… it looked like something to catch an animal with. He was curious. He'd have to do some research, but later, after Heiwa was finished.

“I guess this’d be intetestin’, yeah. Dun see what's got’cha so fascinated by this rabble. Or ya’ curious on them cages, hm?” For all his intelligence, he could speak like the most uneducated of country bumpkins if he wanted to. Lazy, drawlling, indecipherable if you didn't understand the cadence and tempo of his vocal patterns. Sharp, like the strike of a lightning bolt, but rolling and drawn like a distant thunder clap. Rumbled, yet pitched, high like a child on the cusp of puberty, but not yet stepped over the edge. Which he was, a little later than some, but not yet behind his age mates. “I'd venture spoils a’ tha’ desert. Rare beasties, insects an’ wil’ dogs, maybe ‘n unlucky fox ‘er two. Prolly hidin’ illegal ivory ‘n gold under tha’ straw an’ inside tha’ cage walls. Usual stuff, sadly. Buuuuut, they won’enjoy’t long, Dad’ll have’m rounded an’ chained by ta’nigh’.” He giggled to himself, it was a rather beautiful image, the poachers and vagabonds being hauled off in electrified handcuffs. Fuuuun.

557.