A hand twitched, outstretched from a shifting sand dune. Fingers flexing, the ground it jutted from roiling and shifting as another hand burst from the ground, a robed head soon rising out of it frantically. The figure that rose from the sand coughed, expelling the dry grit from his lips and struggling to assume an upright position. His head ached, his body felt sore and weak, but his chakra...he could feel his chakra waiting to respond to his motions and will. Hands now free, he made one symbol - the symbol of the Ram.
fwipfwipfwipfwifwipfwipthwapthwapshhhshhh
Sheets of paper burst from the ground as the youth simply dissolved into sheafs of the white material, floating in the breeze as more and more sheets poured from the ground. Floating lazily in a loose cloud nearly ten feet wide, they pulled back together above the sand where the man had been buried, a figure taking form from the numerous sheets. The soft sound of a thousand newspapers rustling, of bags of letters being shifted spread throughout the air, audible from near a hundred yards away. The man that stepped forth was tall, dressed in a black robe that hung loosely and comfortably from his frame even as the paper finished sticking to him. His face was marked with strange blue lines of makeup, covering a neutral expression with thin, pursed lips and placid grey eyes. Upon his forehead was a red strip of cloth attached to a metal plate, four vertical lines parallel to each other. Anyone from his homelands would know what it meant, but this did not look familiar.
Haruhiko Kami, shinobi of Amegakure, the Village Hidden in the Rain, was unsure of himself. He stared out across the dunes, felt the wind rustling at his body as the paper amalgam returned to being normal flesh and blood, for the moment at least. "The Land of Winds? But....I have never been to this part before." The ninja mused to himself. Perhaps if he gained enough height, he would spot Sunagakure, the Village Hidden in the Sand in the distance. A wise idea, but one that might leave him open to attack. In any case, there was no use in trying to hide in these sun blasted lands. He was a ninja of the air, not the earth.
The rustling sound grew louder as thick, curved wings began to form on the back of his robe, growing impressively wide as he felt his body grow lighter as he returned to the state of being he felt most at home in. "Shikigami no Mai: Angel." With a powerful flap, he was airborne, sailing upwards and scanning the horizon. Nothing. Nothing that was familiar . He was very far from home. But there, almost invisible....tall structures...and...shapes. Moving shapes. Civilization.
Haruhiko Kami set off towards the signs of life, soaring above the dunes on angelic wings of paper, inwardly fretting about being torn from his homelands, the disruption of his plans....but that would come later, when he was in a more comfortable environment. Now was the time for action.
fwipfwipfwipfwifwipfwipthwapthwapshhhshhh
Sheets of paper burst from the ground as the youth simply dissolved into sheafs of the white material, floating in the breeze as more and more sheets poured from the ground. Floating lazily in a loose cloud nearly ten feet wide, they pulled back together above the sand where the man had been buried, a figure taking form from the numerous sheets. The soft sound of a thousand newspapers rustling, of bags of letters being shifted spread throughout the air, audible from near a hundred yards away. The man that stepped forth was tall, dressed in a black robe that hung loosely and comfortably from his frame even as the paper finished sticking to him. His face was marked with strange blue lines of makeup, covering a neutral expression with thin, pursed lips and placid grey eyes. Upon his forehead was a red strip of cloth attached to a metal plate, four vertical lines parallel to each other. Anyone from his homelands would know what it meant, but this did not look familiar.
Haruhiko Kami, shinobi of Amegakure, the Village Hidden in the Rain, was unsure of himself. He stared out across the dunes, felt the wind rustling at his body as the paper amalgam returned to being normal flesh and blood, for the moment at least. "The Land of Winds? But....I have never been to this part before." The ninja mused to himself. Perhaps if he gained enough height, he would spot Sunagakure, the Village Hidden in the Sand in the distance. A wise idea, but one that might leave him open to attack. In any case, there was no use in trying to hide in these sun blasted lands. He was a ninja of the air, not the earth.
The rustling sound grew louder as thick, curved wings began to form on the back of his robe, growing impressively wide as he felt his body grow lighter as he returned to the state of being he felt most at home in. "Shikigami no Mai: Angel." With a powerful flap, he was airborne, sailing upwards and scanning the horizon. Nothing. Nothing that was familiar . He was very far from home. But there, almost invisible....tall structures...and...shapes. Moving shapes. Civilization.
Haruhiko Kami set off towards the signs of life, soaring above the dunes on angelic wings of paper, inwardly fretting about being torn from his homelands, the disruption of his plans....but that would come later, when he was in a more comfortable environment. Now was the time for action.