Travelling through Fire country > The border of Uzushio
Splitting the clan had been advantageous in the beginning, but Houou still missed the branches of his family; longing strangely for the years on the road and the closeness of his council. But time marched on and their numbers swelled and it had been time to look to the future of their young ones and the generations that would lead them forward, once he finally tired of the life his bloodline provided.
Settling in one place was still an act of great restraint that Houou did not quite yet possess, but visiting he could do; checking in with each Maniwa outpost and assuring himself of the health and safety of each precious member with his own eyes and affording him a comfort that letters simply couldn't offer.
Fire country was a cool joy to travel in the spring time and he walked the paths with an easy gate that belayed none of the skill he possessed as a long lived and exceptionally train shinobi. Houou was simply a brightly coloured and obnoxiously regal looking tumbler, a performer of tricks and reciter of tales and nothing more to the casual observer. Only his fellow Maniwa would understand the markings; slashes of red across his eyes and nose that distinguished him among them, despite the years and changes that he might have to enact in the mean time.
Time marched on and so did he, soon to see his strays again, if only the day stayed clear and the road to Uzushio smooth.
Houou Maniwa | Katanagatari | Maniwa Clan/Uzushiogakure??/TBD
Splitting the clan had been advantageous in the beginning, but Houou still missed the branches of his family; longing strangely for the years on the road and the closeness of his council. But time marched on and their numbers swelled and it had been time to look to the future of their young ones and the generations that would lead them forward, once he finally tired of the life his bloodline provided.
Settling in one place was still an act of great restraint that Houou did not quite yet possess, but visiting he could do; checking in with each Maniwa outpost and assuring himself of the health and safety of each precious member with his own eyes and affording him a comfort that letters simply couldn't offer.
Fire country was a cool joy to travel in the spring time and he walked the paths with an easy gate that belayed none of the skill he possessed as a long lived and exceptionally train shinobi. Houou was simply a brightly coloured and obnoxiously regal looking tumbler, a performer of tricks and reciter of tales and nothing more to the casual observer. Only his fellow Maniwa would understand the markings; slashes of red across his eyes and nose that distinguished him among them, despite the years and changes that he might have to enact in the mean time.
Time marched on and so did he, soon to see his strays again, if only the day stayed clear and the road to Uzushio smooth.