1 [A Tale of Snowbirds and Corvi] Thu Oct 04, 2018 5:06 am
Xiao
D-rank
The weeks were growing in length for the little crow as time continued onward rapidly. The Chuunin exams were coming faster and faster still and yet the small shinobi who stood as a mere shadow compared to his hulking peers was naught but a better practitioner of medicine than that of a greater warrior since his graduation from the training academy.
He had found joy in some he had met, his sensei in particular from the Land of Demons and so too those in passing he had bouted with. It was a growing tale for the would be hero and he desired more than anything to finally catch up to those who might be his colleagues one day lest he be damned to a life of civil service like those of his parents all current events aside.
The little crow had decided, as he often did, to venture outward into the swamps of sorrow once more for his daily training in which he attempted to map and track the area. He had a real fascination with the living swamps with their intricate eco systems and host of both flora and fauna that would marvel even the most stoneward of shinobi. There was something beautiful about it to the little puppet master and the more time he spent there the more time he felt it was like a secondary home.
As he stood rested upon a branch of one of the great willows under a shining sky he watched the nearby stream as it gently passed by. It was something rather beautiful to the puppeteer as it flowed with not only water but algae and an assortment of unique insect that each served their own purpose. Although he had begun his life wishing to be the true hero that Kirigakure needed he had found a growing depression in his lack of ability but so too as each insect was important in the eco system of the swamp could he also find solace in the fact that he had always tried his best and had always pushed beyond his limits. He would never give up, but with it being said he would so too never find compacency even if his dream was achieved.
Resting his Guqin on his lap he began to play gently, a small melody that brought him relaxation and calming of the spirit trying to mirror the sounds of the swamp in each of his movements of his fingers. He was, admittedly, using the time to relax so too as a way to measure his reaction and speed. Though he could play his instrument gently and melodically handsigns and the like were another story, none the less the little crow found a great pleasure in the strumming and plucking of his favoured instrument from his original homeland far beyond that of the shinobi isles where grand warriors roamed.
-
479
He had found joy in some he had met, his sensei in particular from the Land of Demons and so too those in passing he had bouted with. It was a growing tale for the would be hero and he desired more than anything to finally catch up to those who might be his colleagues one day lest he be damned to a life of civil service like those of his parents all current events aside.
The little crow had decided, as he often did, to venture outward into the swamps of sorrow once more for his daily training in which he attempted to map and track the area. He had a real fascination with the living swamps with their intricate eco systems and host of both flora and fauna that would marvel even the most stoneward of shinobi. There was something beautiful about it to the little puppet master and the more time he spent there the more time he felt it was like a secondary home.
As he stood rested upon a branch of one of the great willows under a shining sky he watched the nearby stream as it gently passed by. It was something rather beautiful to the puppeteer as it flowed with not only water but algae and an assortment of unique insect that each served their own purpose. Although he had begun his life wishing to be the true hero that Kirigakure needed he had found a growing depression in his lack of ability but so too as each insect was important in the eco system of the swamp could he also find solace in the fact that he had always tried his best and had always pushed beyond his limits. He would never give up, but with it being said he would so too never find compacency even if his dream was achieved.
Resting his Guqin on his lap he began to play gently, a small melody that brought him relaxation and calming of the spirit trying to mirror the sounds of the swamp in each of his movements of his fingers. He was, admittedly, using the time to relax so too as a way to measure his reaction and speed. Though he could play his instrument gently and melodically handsigns and the like were another story, none the less the little crow found a great pleasure in the strumming and plucking of his favoured instrument from his original homeland far beyond that of the shinobi isles where grand warriors roamed.
-
479