Time after time the blade of a half moon axe fell heavily upon the surface of lumber. Though its wielder could have split the pieces of wood with naught but his hands and would have certainly made a faster job of it if he used his own masterfully crafted weapons, he instead demonstrated restraint. Uncovered down to the upper hem of his britches the ex-Tsuchikage worked tirelessly with a small assortment of the camp's men. Their work had begun in the early morning when Suna representatives had delivered the all too necessary supplies to keep them going. So, in a need to work off a combination of sweat and frustration the man had decided to aide his fellow countrymen.
To say he had been busy since his meeting with the Kazekage, nearly a day ago, would have been the greatest understatement. His return had seen the moving of the refugees a mile and a half away from the stonewall gates which would give their hosts a close enough watch on their daily activities without having to feel as if they were being suffocated by their mere presence. From there daily logs were set up to record the comings and goings of his people, patrols of their own choosing set up to secure the perimeter, mundane tasks doled out to more individuals since they had finally found a place of semi-permanent residence, and just a great deal of other miniscule operations that came together to make a successful camp.
Just about to square his shoulders for another delivery hampered by the effects of Gouriki
when a sharp whistle rang out from the nearest man to him. This act was followed by the resting of weapons to the majority of men's sides as they all admired the object of their affections in unison - not that they could be either seen or heard from the other side of the camp by normal ears -. "What's the occasion, gentlemen?"
Kyoka holstered the axe in a loop at his belt before following their line of sight. The situation soon became clear which brought a wry smirk to his face. "Just admiring the lord's work, boss."
The voice belonged to Loal. A regular Iwagakurian who seemed to have wrought iron for arms. "Better not let your wife know then, Loal."
Another chimed in as he leaned back against a pile of wood. "Now, me. I'm more than available."
A young boy straddling the fence between adolescence and adulthood broke into the conversation nervously. He had been ignored among the men for the most part in a "speak when spoken to" atmosphere, but the gravity of the situation was too much to hold his tongue. "So, what's she like Kyoka-sama? The Kazekage...""Terrifying..."
It was partially true. He wasn't sure Noriko was aware of the power of her presence, but it was mighty. Even greater than he had originally anticipated upon their first meeting. With an off-hand he tossed his axe towards the boy who had been working with one that seemed to be on its last leg. "...and out of our leagues. Sturdy men like ourselves have to content ourselves with the fruits that fall to us.""But a man can dream!"
Someone piped up which immediately elicited uproarious laughter.
On that note Kyoka left the group to their own further machinations. One he might have entertained if not for the fact that he doubted Noriko had come all the way out here in her busy schedule just to peruse the camp. The thought would have provoked further contemplations had he not seen a little tuft of blonde hair making her way through the tents. Three quick strides and a quick sweep brought the little golden haired monster up across his shoulder to her discontent. Upon realizing who it was though the young toddler of his master surgeon calmed herself by making a mess of his brown locks.
It was to this picture that Noriko would find him walking into the medic tents.