Uchiha Sasuke; 002
Who: Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi
Where: Espoir
Style: Third
Status: Closed. Backdated to April 9th.
“…engage the targets in battle.”
Sasuke's staring at the Dreamberry discarded by the trunk of a tree. He has no trouble hearing the transmission; it’s loud enough to reach across the distance to where he stands, undeterred even by the dancing wind.
The hilt of his sword hangs loosely from his hand while its tip pricks the soil beneath. He'd been training, would still be training had the chain of calls not disrupted the silence and snapped his concentration. He's not usually so unfocused, but the past month seems to be a rare exception.
Sasuke blinks away the blur from eyes held open for far too long, gaze sliding away from the tiny device shrouded almost completely by tall shards of grass. He sheaths his sword in a quick motion that's easily traceable with the naked eye, arm faltering just a tiny fraction in that short second. The wound at his side, it doesn't hurt anymore, is more a discomfort than anything else, but his speed still isn't back to standard and his range of movement is still noticeably hindered.
He's good at ignoring pain, but not when he's just lost focus. Sasuke places a hand on his side and presses against it tentatively. He's met with a constant burn that doesn't let him forget how he'd received it in the first place, that attempts to connect each train of thought threatening to veer onto the tracks of massacreKonohatraitormissionItachi.
Sasuke closes his eyes and applies more pressure to the tender area. Mission. Kakashi had issued a mission. Konoha had--
A whistling crack of wind grazes along the footprints imprinted into the grass. The Dreamberry remains by the tree.
Where: Espoir
Style: Third
Status: Closed. Backdated to April 9th.
“…engage the targets in battle.”
Sasuke's staring at the Dreamberry discarded by the trunk of a tree. He has no trouble hearing the transmission; it’s loud enough to reach across the distance to where he stands, undeterred even by the dancing wind.
The hilt of his sword hangs loosely from his hand while its tip pricks the soil beneath. He'd been training, would still be training had the chain of calls not disrupted the silence and snapped his concentration. He's not usually so unfocused, but the past month seems to be a rare exception.
Sasuke blinks away the blur from eyes held open for far too long, gaze sliding away from the tiny device shrouded almost completely by tall shards of grass. He sheaths his sword in a quick motion that's easily traceable with the naked eye, arm faltering just a tiny fraction in that short second. The wound at his side, it doesn't hurt anymore, is more a discomfort than anything else, but his speed still isn't back to standard and his range of movement is still noticeably hindered.
He's good at ignoring pain, but not when he's just lost focus. Sasuke places a hand on his side and presses against it tentatively. He's met with a constant burn that doesn't let him forget how he'd received it in the first place, that attempts to connect each train of thought threatening to veer onto the tracks of massacreKonohatraitormissionItachi.
Sasuke closes his eyes and applies more pressure to the tender area. Mission. Kakashi had issued a mission. Konoha had--
A whistling crack of wind grazes along the footprints imprinted into the grass. The Dreamberry remains by the tree.