Isao woke with a start. The crash of thunder was distinct, reaching into the depths of his subconscious and yanking him out of his slumber. It tugged on the harsh memory of the disaster just a few months before. He sighed as he settled back into the lumpy cot lent to him by the older couple downstairs. The former crew of The Bolt seemed to be stirring as well, as he heard a series of mumbles and grumbles coming from all around the cramped attic. As those around him began to wake, swinging their legs to the side of the cot and rubbing their eyes in resignation, Isao realized what they were about to do and hurriedly asked,
"Are we still going to dance?"
to which one of the more gnarled sailors responded,
"Of course, Boy. We don't stop dancing just because the thunder gods decide to remind us who's in charge every now and again."
Not another word was said as Isao followed the lead set by the ten or fifteen older men. This would likely be a slow dance. It's difficult to dance quickly when one is weighed down with regret. The sound of heavy rain reached the men's ears as the door to the small cottage was opened, giving them a full view of the Kumogakure street. It was bare, as they'd expected. Not many would want to be out in this kind of storm at 10am. It was perfect for the crew's purposes. The men spread out into a circle about fifteen feet wide, two of them crouching down on the side closest to the cottage. With a clasp of their hands, the two men began the dance. To Isao's surprise, the men didn't seem to be hampered at all by the rain, nor the lack of drums. It seemed this would be a fast dance after all. One of the men even began the dance with a no-handed cartwheel, transitioning quickly into a spinning hook kick. The kick was dodged expertly as the other man spun into a low sweep, and the two were off. Isao grinned in excitement as he watched what promised to be one of the best thunder dances he'd seen in his 4 years on The Bolt.
"Are we still going to dance?"
to which one of the more gnarled sailors responded,
"Of course, Boy. We don't stop dancing just because the thunder gods decide to remind us who's in charge every now and again."
Not another word was said as Isao followed the lead set by the ten or fifteen older men. This would likely be a slow dance. It's difficult to dance quickly when one is weighed down with regret. The sound of heavy rain reached the men's ears as the door to the small cottage was opened, giving them a full view of the Kumogakure street. It was bare, as they'd expected. Not many would want to be out in this kind of storm at 10am. It was perfect for the crew's purposes. The men spread out into a circle about fifteen feet wide, two of them crouching down on the side closest to the cottage. With a clasp of their hands, the two men began the dance. To Isao's surprise, the men didn't seem to be hampered at all by the rain, nor the lack of drums. It seemed this would be a fast dance after all. One of the men even began the dance with a no-handed cartwheel, transitioning quickly into a spinning hook kick. The kick was dodged expertly as the other man spun into a low sweep, and the two were off. Isao grinned in excitement as he watched what promised to be one of the best thunder dances he'd seen in his 4 years on The Bolt.