Post by vanessa ☯ on Jun 8, 2012 20:13:39 GMT -5
Body flicker technique was quite a useful thing – Miki’s speed was a signature quality of the jounin. She arrived at the rim of the bandits’ camp, hiding herself within the foliage and rocky cascade that the bandits had used to protect the camp. It would have been an effective hideout – if the shinobi of Kumogakure weren’t adept at rock-climbing. Her obsidian gaze was held steadily at the bloody battle, where she saw a shinobi fight fearlessly against leagues of bandits. He wasn’t familiar to her, and that was enough for the jounin to not join in the fight.
Rows upon rows of the racketeers collapsed – using weaponry, earthen dragons, and taijutsu. Impressive. She thought privately, not wishing to move from her spot to miss the battle. Miki narrowed her dark eyes a little, and guessed that the winner of the battle was a young male. Maybe a teenager. It was evident that the man was a proud and reckless one too, from how he showed no mercy and how cruelly the skulls of his opponents were broken in. For a battle like this, one hundred against one, Miki would have laid a thick sheet of glacier over the battleground to freeze all of her opponents rapidly. Less painful death too, she thought surreptitiously.
Finally, a heavy mass of earth was lifted and fallen against the heads of the last few thieves. The crunching of their skulls left an unsavoury echo through the camp. But who was this fierce shinobi? If a missing-nin, she would need to report him quickly. A hundred thieves killed, just within a short amount of time. Their screams of pain and battle-initiation still echoed through her skull as the jounin quietly twisted her fingers in the tiger hand seal and created a clone from ice. Once formed, it gave the original a short nod in understanding. The real Miki couldn’t afford to take chances of hidden traps – it didn’t pay to gamble with death in that country. Death and his company would have to wait for the jounin a little longer, unlike with the thieves.
The look-alike padded down the stony cascade, careful to turn over some pebbles to warn Sorentre of a visitor with their soft rattling. She prowled across the thief camp, wrinkling her nose at the scent of cheap tobacco and urine, leaping over masses of bleeding corpses. The sight of it drew away from the shadow of Sorentre, which she had been following previously. The dust from the earth dragons and earth hammer still clouded the air with their dull-brown breath, and the clone squinted a little into the smallish tents as she passed by. Taken by curiousity, the jonin’s clone padded into an open tent and picked up a bottle of sake. The neck of the container was shattered by the lurch of the ground, and the alcohol within owned an oily scent. It seemed, even thieves who stole the money of others didn’t live too much of a glamorous life. The sake was dropped with a small clink against the camp’s floor in repugnance.
Miki pushed her way out of the tent, and continued her lurk for survivors. A few minutes later, roughly fifteen tents were checked for perhaps travelling families, but all the tents held the same items. A little bit of sake, cooking pans, the smell of mould, and a blanket. The last tent to be checked was the largest one, and she was sure that the unidentified shinobi was shuffling within. The clone let her shadow be casted against the canvas of the tent, letting the other sense her presence before inviting herself within. Miki flicked her black fringe away from her neatly-shaped face, her kumogakure forehead protector was clearly visible.