fill 'er up. [travel]

[seppuku]

Barely audible foot steps brought the man down a winding path of rain and leaves, shielded from the constant pelting only by the ebony cloak covering his rather expensive style of dress; this was one of the few times he'd be seen wearing such an item anymore, having long since lost the desire-- honestly, his taste in style was changing. He often associated such gloomy garments with shinobi --to adorn himself with it.

Such horrible weather-- I hope Cloud has something better to offer.

Hands were stuffed into the lining of his pockets, lowering his gaze to meet nothing but the damp, muddy trail in front of him. He sucked his teeth, narrowing his eyes in disgust as he casually strolled; there wasn't any need for speed at the moment -- however unfortunate that was.

Fuckin'-- gonna get my shoes dirty.

Move to Hi no Kuni

[Masakuni]

Moved.

[seppuku]

Soon, the rain stopped.

Having crossed the borders from eternal rain and into sunshine and beauty, Kouketsu was free to do away with that bothersome cloak. It was a gorgeous day, and the sun burned ravenously; the heat pulsated as it slammed against the landscape and its denizens, counter-acted only by the cool breeze of the East.

Mm, this is much better than a shit load of rain; I'll have to see if we can get an establishment out here.

He was talking to himself as he moved, still casually strolling down a path he forged with every step. His head tilted backward, allowing his eyes to roll to the heavens and envy the endless blue and thick, shapeless masses of clouds; they moved so slow that the world seemed to stand still.

Move to Claw.

[Masakuni]

MOveth.

[seppuku]

He was almost there.

Still, his steps had yet to deviate from their steady tempo each hardened sole created as it 'thumped' against the ground. His was moving to the beat, but his patience was growing thing -- he was fortunate enough to have cleared so much distance that his objective was so close; he could practically taste the dense atmosphere of the country on his lips. It excited him, really, but he couldn't hold back a groan.

Bah, so much fuckin' walking. I need a better method of transportation.

He growled, observing the scenery. Slender digits from the Western hand brushed through a veil of charcoal locks, sifting through the mane as he straightened what he could; his hair was always rather neat, and though his bangs fell rather choppily, they matched his handsome countenance perfectly.

Almost there.

Move to Thunder

[Masakuni]

Moved thrice.