With all that was going on in Suna, there was little other to think about. His name was Takashi Kumoro, but he scarcely remembered even that at times. All he could think about was the death that was surrounding him, and the battles that were crushing him. Physically, he was fine; escaping with only a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious, and nothing that wouldn't heal with time or proper treatment. Mentally, he'd met his match; even at his level of mental excitement, he'd never encountered any situation so mentally taxing. People around him died every day. People around him went missing every day. People around him suffered every day. People around him planned and plotted, and rummaged through their minds in often failed attempts to solve the crisis before them. But there was nothing they could do... There was nothing any of them could do. Nothing but fight, and die...and flee.
The means at which Kumoro now found himself astray within the desert sands were oblique to him at this point. He'd been walking alone for almost two days now. The last thing he remembered was escaping SENTINEL with Colonel Santou. His next assignment was to bring aid to those refugees that escaped to another location somewhere in the desert. Santou, though, had another mission in mind before hand though. And, unless he put some thought into it, he couldn't quite remember all the details. Not that it mattered, considering he'd already completed that task given to him. At this point, he was just making his way to the refugees as previously assigned.
Tsk... This desert heat is far more taxing out here, where there's less shade and escape. I'd rather be in the village right now... Kumoro's thoughts drifted off momentarily, recalling the pleasures adorned by the village and their convenience when compared to the unforgiving desert. And though his thoughts wandered, his senses were ever vigilant. His eyes scanned the sand - thought it was everywhere - for any clear and present danger; and not far in the distance, he found another man trekking through the sands. There was no time to question. Here in the desert, with all of Suna under siege, an unfamiliar face could only be one thing: the enemy.
Reaching into a small pouch resting on his right side, placed at his waist, he drew a kunai; his wooden bat strapped to his back. There was no one around to help him... No superiors he could count on, no allies to give aid. All that rested on his mind now was survival... but could he survive?
"Do not ask any questions. Don't tell me anything. You have no rights. The only thing you do have is the rope holding the blade of the guillotine, safely suspended above the necks of your friends. Make no mistake, woman. This is not a negotiation, it's an order."