Ame to Suna

After having died, Satyr was missing some thing. He could not say what, but he felt completely empty, completely void of emotions. And he did not care. Wandering away from the rain country, he had no particular destination. He would eventually end up where he would end up. Before long he had completely left the rain village, those memories now seeming so very distant. A few people had tried to talk to him along the way, asking for directions, making general small talk, warnings of bandits ahead, and to all of them he either completely ignored, or when they were particularly persistent he drew his katana, mercilessly slicing them down, then carrying along on his path. Before he knew it he had reached a desert, the forests dissipating away in to sand. ‘This must be the border of the wind country then’ he thought, then carried on plodding his way through. He did not know why he was heading here, but that did not matter to him. He might find some thing interesting to do there, some thing interesting to kill.

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