There didn't seem to be any limits to what the villages would do in the name of cooperation, especially when it involved stray cats and a request for a joint training mission came up at the precise moment when the active Sunagakure roster was decimated by chakra measles. Even though he was one of the only jounin up and about, Gaara was sure he had only been given the three genin reluctantly, and even then they were the worst of the lot. Probably, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought under a shell of grit, these were the ones listed under 'acceptable losses' in the reports. Sacrificed to the wheel of false diplomacy.
And now all three of them were staring at him. They'd been doing that for the past two days during their animal hunt, so it wasn't particularly new, but somewhere along the way the staring had shifted from outright terror through several shades of resignation and into bewilderment. One of them had even asked a question. It had been unpleasant for everyone involved.
He suspected that the shift had occurred during the hour he had spent trying to coax a large, bad-tempered cat down from a roof with a series of sand mice, but by the time the tiny genjutsu specialist of the trio had managed to grab the animal Gaara could have cared less about paying attention to their mood. He'd spent most of the trip feeling sand coiling around him like so many restless snakes, not wanting to chance a tendril that darted out here or there driving straight through a small torso rather than catching them as they stumbled, not trusting the platforms to support their weight without swallowing limbs and crushing. They had no idea, or were happy enough to forget that danger in light of a few grainy, squeaking sculptures and three rescued cats, but he couldn't help the mixture of relief and dark, dulled disappointment when they reached the rendezvous point and he could hand the group on to their next assignment.
Then again, the looks could be the occasional plaintive echo reverberating through the huge gourd strapped to his back, its lid suspiciously open.
Gaara | Naruto | Sunagakure | ihavenoideawhatimdoing.jpg
There didn't seem to be any limits to what the villages would do in the name of cooperation, especially when it involved stray cats and a request for a joint training mission came up at the precise moment when the active Sunagakure roster was decimated by chakra measles. Even though he was one of the only jounin up and about, Gaara was sure he had only been given the three genin reluctantly, and even then they were the worst of the lot. Probably, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought under a shell of grit, these were the ones listed under 'acceptable losses' in the reports. Sacrificed to the wheel of false diplomacy.
And now all three of them were staring at him. They'd been doing that for the past two days during their animal hunt, so it wasn't particularly new, but somewhere along the way the staring had shifted from outright terror through several shades of resignation and into bewilderment. One of them had even asked a question. It had been unpleasant for everyone involved.
He suspected that the shift had occurred during the hour he had spent trying to coax a large, bad-tempered cat down from a roof with a series of sand mice, but by the time the tiny genjutsu specialist of the trio had managed to grab the animal Gaara could have cared less about paying attention to their mood. He'd spent most of the trip feeling sand coiling around him like so many restless snakes, not wanting to chance a tendril that darted out here or there driving straight through a small torso rather than catching them as they stumbled, not trusting the platforms to support their weight without swallowing limbs and crushing. They had no idea, or were happy enough to forget that danger in light of a few grainy, squeaking sculptures and three rescued cats, but he couldn't help the mixture of relief and dark, dulled disappointment when they reached the rendezvous point and he could hand the group on to their next assignment.
Then again, the looks could be the occasional plaintive echo reverberating through the huge gourd strapped to his back, its lid suspiciously open.
[Option B: Backstory - let me know what!]