"Someone approaches. Be ready." Hideyoshi, the restless ancestral spirit always had his senses on high alert. He distrusted shinobi to a height most couldn't comprehend. As those words brought the idle Watsuji to raise his eyes from beneath his straw hat, he would scan the figure of a woman. She approached the fresh linens of the hiding family within this shack, reaching out to take them without regard for their personal belongings. Her appearances revealed that she was not without troubles of her own, a tattered wedding dress clinging to her body. The length was shortened by way of a rough blade rather than careful craftsmanship. This was not a stylistic decision, but was she aware of the fault in stealing from others? He would rise from his spot, grasping Mother's Bequest by its hilt and dashing forward at high speed, slicing the grass along his path. This brought him face to face with the woman, who he would grasp by the wrist before she could do anything further with the pants.

"She placed those out here around an hour ago. Do you think she would be a little upset to find them stolen while her family is already forced to cower inside from an onslaught beyond their capacity?" Watsuji would speak calmly, his strength somewhat oppressive as he held the girl by her wrist. He knew never to strike an unready opponent, so regardless of her disposition he wanted to approach giving her the ability to speak for herself. The samurai warrior was not one for thievery, and had admittedly grown attached to his little hosting family of Kumogakure citizens. A silent, mutual relationship had blossomed between the neutral party and the family. He protected them from any outside threats while he stayed in the workshop. He had the time and space to prepare himself for his final mark, Hastur.

"What is your name?" Watsuji asked, releasing her wrist and taking the pants back from her. As the smoke rose through the streets from the fires nearby, gusts of wind would bluster about and choke those who stood in its wake. The samurai would enter a small coughing fit, having been breathing this for a few hours now. It was a godsend to him that his time here was limited. He had no want or desire to be involved with this shinobi on shinobi violence. From the window behind, the wife of the cowering family looked upon the scene with fear. She had yet to confirm or deny whether Watsuji was a good natured soul or a malevolent force. She winced as she imagined how this could possibly end.

"It's okay! She can have any clothes she needs! Please, she needs them more than any of us right now." The woman would shout upon throwing open the kitchen windows. She clearly didn't want to witness any violence and felt for the girl. It shocked Watsuji as he has never intended on harming this person in the first place.

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WC: 503