Post by -- temari on Jun 14, 2008 13:31:29 GMT -5
Dusk in Sunagakure. Temari had always been particularly fond of it, where the purple haze of twilight fell against the sand and draped the desert in a dream-like shade of lavender. The sky darkened near its peak, stars gleaming from high above where they had yet to wake closer along the horizon. Summer was closing in on the desert, breathing infamous heat against the sand as the new season loomed along the corner. The Sand Villiage wasn't so particular when it came to seasons, usually always hot during the days while the nights were always freezing. The extremes of a desert lifestyle had always appealed to the blonde sand-kunoichi, who walked the narrow roads of her rustic villiage. The place had become an ideal refuge for travelers, especially since it was relatively untouched by the on-goings of the outside world. It pleased Temari, to know that their villiage had become a concept of saftey and peace, though tempers were constantly running high with the growing numbers of sanctuary-seeking vagabonds. For the most part, however, Suna was strong, standing, and the promise of somesort of serenity despite the chaos that surged beyond its desert home.
In time, the Sabaku sibling wound her way to a playground where young children were being called away to their homes for dinner. Night was nearly fallen, after all, and the temperatures would drop soon enough. Temari decided against turning in, however. She felt particularly uncertain for one reason or another, as though the wind told her secrets no one else heard. There was often a prickle down the back of her neck; as though warning the Jounin of some threat she could not properly sense. For the most part, Suna was as peaceful as ever, especially under her younger brother's role of Kazekage. He had turned the village into a desert gem despite its poverty, an oasis of some sorts despite its lonely, if morose, atmosphere. It had always been that hole in the desert that the Wind Nation's travelers had tried to avoid. But now, it was finally something; a place that offered refuge to those that dared the desert dunes. Disgruntled with her doubt, however, she made her way through the playground. Childhood looked so inviting sometimes, where one could disappear into innocence and naïvety. For one who had always valued maturity in people, she was surprised with her dark outlook on things. Really, would it do any good to wander around and brood over matters that would not be helped by it? Sulking never did any good for anyone.
Temari took comfort in leaning against the fence near the very back of the playground, leaning her elbows on the edge after propping her iron fan beside her. It leaned by her side, human-like in their similar postures that could have cast close shadows along the dirt. But the sun was too low to catch human shapes in its net. Suna's dome-like dwellings were the ones that caught shadows in the dying light of the sun that fell against the vast, desert valley. Sunagakure was lucky to be cradled so perfectly between the cliffs, curled close away from the drastic elements that howled in the distance. The wail of the wind had always been such a wonderful sound, however. Temari had often fallen asleep to it when the desert storms would grow harsh. She had come to befriend the wind, after all, in ways that had displayed devestating prowess against oblivious opponants. The Sabaku sister tilted her head upwards slightly, sea-teal eyes wandering the darkening sky exposed beautifully for her in this small square. She could still hear the comings and goings of the villiagers, who delt with their business in a soft humming of voices and footsteps just beyond her vision. It was a comforting sound; the noises of casual villiage life. The desert would sometimes awaken in the cool cover of evening, when the lights would turn on and a new sort of energy would fill the town that would often sleep when it basked in the heat of day. If there was one thing the kunoichi could always appreciate, it was her birthplace and its rural allure; that rustic charm that didn't live in places like Konoha.
Of all the places to find the Sand-nin, who would have expected a lonely playground; a small place where children went to escape the reality of their homesteads. She couldn't remember playing here when she was so little. Most of her memories were clouded, or consisted of things she had often tried to forget. It was quite uncharacteristic of her to dwell in this innocent, young patch of Sunagakure. But as the weight of some unknown hostility far beyond the village walls came to rest in the center of her chest, the Jounin wondered vaguely if her instincts were reassured by the distant naïvety of childhood. Hmph. This was all too down and deep for her tastes, where things were far more simple and welcome when settled with a blunt word or two. Sensations like these were far too ambiguous and unnerving for this kunoichi's tough tastes. But Temari kept her eyes on the sky, watching the stars open their gleaming eyes as the warm wind pushed the empty swings.
ooc; reserved for gaara. (: [/size]