Mangled but alive, it hurt to breathe. A Pyrrhic victory, she was confident she had broken both her legs and that a rib might have punctured her lung. Drained. She was hungry. Ravenous in fact as she slunk into the shadows outside of the Obsidian, she would not return there for some time. It was too dangerous, not because it was also Mikaboshi's hunting grounds but also because she had just angered something antediluvian down there. Despite its weakened state, it has had years to consume the essence of others and it surely did so. Despite this fact, it was still so... unformed. It was a terrifying prospect to know what the Lord of the Wild Hunt would become when his strength was fully restored or how much he had taken from her. She had never felt so debilitated. So tired. Standing upright required tremendous effort as she guided herself along the building's edge. Her foot was dragging behind her, twisted slightly as she stumbled with an ataxic gait forward. A mouthful of red sand was coughed up onto the ground. She was fucking dying already. The heart lacked nourishment of any kind and she wondered if her sacrifice was all for nothing or if she had finally earned her freedom. She stopped short of a rather grand estate, it was the kind that had a lawn not only in the desert but also underground. She steadied herself as she listened to see what was inside. It was a rather normal house for a member of an elite family, the kind that could afford on a whim something most could not afford in their lifetime. She did not envy their wealth, of all things that and human youth were the most fleeting. She desired their crux. Shiori's tongue ran over her dry lips before she bit down with her teeth.
She was so hungry.
Her hand shook with desire as she transformed her figure briefly into that of a server. She did not attempt to replicate the appearance of anyone in particular. Blonde. Petite. She entered through the back as if she had done so a thousand times before, lingering only long enough to not appear as if she had a purpose. Up the twisting staircase and down the long hall to where the family had gathered for what would appear to be tea. Shiori smiled quietly as let the door close behind her. "Excuse me," Shiori announced before a cacophony of screams filled the house. She would depart before the help could arrive, all that would remain of the husband and wife pair with their children was a pile of bones and a thin film of sand.
Sated.
She had something to do still before she escaped into the wilds. There was someone in need of gratitude. She could tell by his attire that he was a man of wealth. She recognized the sand techniques that he manipulated as belonging to the Sunaku Clan. That was truly all she needed to know, the village was not very large and with so many dead their numbers had diminished to only a few.
Sunaku... Sunaku... Harupia.
Yes, that was it. Her transformation dropped. Her injuries now healed, even those that lingered after Shouki's assault. Her dress was tattered and worn, today was quite the ordeal. Her heels clicked on the paved streets, a luxury saved for only the most wealthy and powerful. She spied the names on the sprawling estates, finding the name eventually be it in the slums or among the richest residences in Sunagakure. She took a small sheet of paper and scrawled a brief note on one side, on the other she wrote in large letters: Sunaku Harupia and folded it over once.
Inside it read:
I have not had the opportunity to thank you personally for your heroism, strength and bravery. If it were not for you, I would not be here today. I would like to thank you over tea.
The Lotus Blossom -- 7pm.
~Shiori<i></i>
She slid the note under the door and walked away. It would have to be today. It would have to be tonight before word spreads.
She did not return home, rather she took what she required from a nearby shop. The merchant would not complain, her bones were still behind the counter at the small boutique she visited. She did not know for sure, but she assumed that Sousuke would have been intelligent enough as to monitor their home and prevent her successful return. First world problems in a second class village. She was already waiting, thirty minutes prior to the arranged time, not for anticipated but rather to see if Harupia already knew. She ordered a green tea and a pastry, she was not entirely sure what she got back in the case of the later. It was long and covered in a sticky glossy glaze. She stabbed it with a fork and carefully held it up to the light, her eyes focused on the strange delicacy while her ears watched more intently the crowd.
Would he come?
