[attr="class","APP3"]To the wind there was melody; each leaf, every twig and even the bare branch were responsible for ever minor part in every major chorus that sung onto the ears of those who listened to Her wonderful tune. Hers were tones that filled with vigor, roused so that they could ward from wounded souls the burden of day and the attritions warred by it. It was a rare respite but here, in nature, it was as common as how the sun rose from the east and turn to set in the west.

--

Curious musings they were, considering the task at hand. Seiichi had received word from the Raikage, specific ones. The way he spoke pronounced his words as if they were doctrine--carefully practiced--exhumed from between his lips that set forth an expectation: though, it turned out that the chuunin he had been tasked with following all took on curious responsibilities, ones that were to be executed beneath other eyes that were keen and watchful of their behavior-- this allowed him free time, and so he'd use it. He had come armed, vicious looking claws that were befitting of his grizzly appearance had been donned with purpose, clenched tightly in those heavily calloused hands; shafts of light that bled through the shifting canopy above that was made to sway from the suggestion of the wind brought it to gleam, perhaps to serve as a warning to those deductive enough of a threat that was to come.

". . ."

Seiichi analyzed with those jaded eyes of sea-green as he peered beneath the maw of his pelt, his visage stony and offering little to presume in way of his thoughts. As a ninja--though the attribute was curiously betraying given his imposing statuesque-- he was versed in an approach well doused with silence, the musing of mindful steps and short and shallowed breaths afforded these advantages. From where he stood, not more than a step beyond the clearing, he gauged his distance at 8 meters, unless the nukenin was ever vigilant and prepared to shift at a moments notice.

"Fine spot to practice." There was a rumble to his voice, a gravelly tone heralded the words he used to break ice. "How well do you use it?" The jounin asked, shifting into a stance that distributed his weight evenly and focused strength into his core, providing him advantage if he were needing to lunge forward or move swiftly to the side; alas, with no other words and little more than the combative stance Seiichi instigated with, it was difficult to glean whether or not he intended something more sinister as he postured himself with claws the length of his massive forearms. .

[attr="class","APP3"]A wise mind bloomed beneath that pelt and the unruly brown hair that he wore as a mane just under it. Despite his unkempt appearance: the shell of a slain ursine that christened his animalistic kind like a crown, a mighty and masculine beard, the tattered gi that had been torn at the sleeves and had been matched with pants which, too, had been discolored over years of service and his feet were bare; alas, the consequence of his lack of proper footwear left him to suffer of criminally dense callouses, all in the shape of rough pads that made something of a grinding sound if he hadn't watched his step on coarser surfaces. There was no questioning the masculinity that he exhumed, but it could certainly be mistaken for the smell of sweat as Seiichi seldom rest, fingers and hand alike all worked to the bone.

He stepped forward, posturing himself once more as another step was taken to the side, his direction now modified as he was more left-leaning than before, Seiichi naturally to the right as that had been the opposite of the far finer dressed man. The appearance of this stranger, the wide-brimmed hat and masked-faced man of the woods, leaned more similarly to the younger end of the generation they shared: the men could be seen more lithe, unperturbed in their causes by more natural androgyny afforded by slimmer waists and lankier limbs. There was a refinement in his voice, one that fell in line with the more fanciful garbed he donned.

"Just arrived. I known none," despite the truth in his response, it mattered little. "A wager: If you're to admit defeat, you must return with me here and accept my challenge again. Only show me another of your favorite spots. This only ends when you defeat me." His words were the signature on a dotted line as he projected himself boldly in his challenge, loud enough to be heard by at least this sword-wielding man if not others that had been roaming around. Out here in the woods, much like he had been in the Land of Thunder and its territories, he found little value in metering himself.

Crunch!

The dearth crackled beneath his next step and a similar sound came from beneath the duress of another, the scattered leaves that littered the ground gave little condolence in to the fact that they revealed all. Another series of rounding steps soon brought him in front of a tree and then another few steps were taken forward. Seeichi seemed to cease his advance, now satisfied with where he stood; every movement had purpose, after all. The Jounin of Kumo rocked back and forth on the pads of his feet, momentum generating as that powerful core lent him an assurance that he could move freely without the sacrifice of leverage or strength. He bounced back and forth, exhuming anticipation.

"Your name?" He asked with that unrelentingly loud voice, only part of his 'manners' recalled.

[attr="class","APP3"]"Easy," his words were pronounced with a more notable dryness that seemed more befitting of his gravelly tones; in truth, the shinobi found no reason in speaking to explain himself further-- though he'd humor him, all the same. "Honor will make you."

!!!

It was then that he tore forward, the speed in which the Jounin performed his advance could prove the fuel of nightmares for those lacking in confidence and resolve. The dearth had been made airborne, dirt and the lifeless debris of the canopies to cloud behind him as he rushed to claim every foot of cushioning distance that separated them, zeroing in with a cold precision that offered no room for doubt as if he were the very tip of the arrow's head, shot forth by a peerless huntsman to still the heart of their latest prize. He ran with a lower center of gravity, leaning forward in this mad-dash with his claws crossed before him. Upon his approach, if his advance was met with a stalwart stance, his arms would unfurl before him, slashing outwardly as they crossed to cut in an "X" that was sure to leave even the finest crafted sword rattling from impact. If they braved the opening strike and had the courage and confidence to catch his claws before they had fully crossed in their devastating cut, then Seiichi would struggle back with a show of his impressive strength as each fiber worked to push forward and rip open his guard, where he could mount the advantage with a quick twist of his body to the right as to bring his leg up in a rounding kick to the man's left side, crashing powerfully against the side he assumed was less dominate leaning and, thus, less prepared to handle the impact of the kick with grace and poise.

However, if the man beneath the widely-brimmed hat managed to act first then the ninja of kumo would respond accordingly. A veteran of many conflicts, Seiichi was confident enough in his own ability to block and parry their strikes, but it wouldn't be until he could witness a handful more that he'd learn the rhythm, timing and speed of their strikes as to catch the blade and disarm him. A world apart from his more formal and unarmed styles of fighting, his unorthodox weapon and formless strikes made him a dangerous and difficult read. Regardless, the cry of ringing steel reinvented the atmosphere and fostered the appropriate conditions for advancement, leaving those who could answer that curdling cry to prosper.

[attr="class","APP3"]Seiichi's kick had landed after breaking through their guard with the aid of his overwhelming strength. They braved it with little time to brace proper for impact and incurred the penalty of damage. It was a mighty kick that cut through the air relentlessly and that transfer of energy seemed so great that he bowled over to Seiichi's left by will of that successful strike, severing his tie to the earth that steadied his stance and offered him the balance to execute what techniques were in the arsenal of his blade-style, be it kenjutsu or iatojutsu or any the many numerous arts and disciplines in swordsmanship. He tracked his opponent as he arched through the air, noting how their dervish of a twist in the air, perhaps the manner in which he lessened the impact of the powerful blow while generating distance. Be it of his own accord or the bewildering strength of the Kumo Jounin, the sword-wielding shinobi bought himself a rough distance of 5 meters and minimal damage.

Tch!

Despite the successful recovery, Seiichi left little opportunity open for strategy as he continued his duress. As he called out to the bear-pelted warrior, it was clear to the Jounin that the man's focus was elsewhere and not presently zeroed in on the threat he faced as either ignorance or inexperience left him to believe he could remain idle and speak. That goliath of the man continued to tear forth in his pursuit as the land beneath his feet was once more disturbed, stirred from the placidity of decay as he trampled over it as predator would in the chase of prey. His strategy was to overwhelm and swarm as he fought in quarters that disadvantaged the blade, particularly the fine one woven tightly in the man's grip that had sung against the claws the shinobi wore on first impact before forced back.

"Return!" he growled with only a little distance left. Pressing off with his leading foot, Seiichi leapt into a twist that brought him down with a spin that generated a great deal of momentum and therefore force as his naturally long reach and impressive size were utilized further as leverage in this attack. If he could successfully dodge it, Seiichi would land and duck into a twist and if the Jounin's sea-green eyes weren't alerted to the twitch of an arm preparing to swing then he'd lunged forward from his crouched position with a headbutt that could stun or stagger, hitting either chest or chin. If his opponent blocked it as he rained down with his assailment, then there was a real danger of losing his blade as the shinobi--who was an outright veteran in his unorthodox weapon--wielded two claws and could leverage his greater strength when slotting the thin blade between his second set of blades to twist and tear it from their grip if not damage the weapon altogether. Finally, there was the prospect that his opponent anticipates him and can move to strike first, effectively countering him if they had the mettle to charge a barreling bear of equal ferocity and force. Such an act would produce a different outcome and perhaps force Seiichi on the defensive for a change as their fight was still in its infancy.

[attr="class","APP3"]Just as he closed in, having leapt with frightful force from his crouched position with angling that would have otherwise produced a startling and disabling headbutt, his foe had vanished into thin air. They had displaced themselves at that very moment, appearing meters above him. At their height, approximately seven meters from where they originally stood, Seiichi was given little opportunity to react more appropriately. If it weren't for the crunch of the branch above them, as it were ill-fated among the rest in the fact that it bore the burden of an unexpected weight, things certainly could have panned out worse. However, the tactic worked in the the favor of the shinobi who donned the widely-brimmed hat and obscuring mask.

"Tschhhh... Gyah!"

He stumbled forth at the sear of the cut, but was forced forward several steps more as he was forced to brave an after effect he had not prepared for. It had felt as if shrapnel from a shattered stump had lodged itself onto his back, made to scatter and pierce his flesh; the Kumo Jounin had expected to avoid the cut, but being unaware of their ninja trick he could not account for the lengthened blade so easily. It was no disabling wound--not by any measure--as he'd endured far more devastating blows and questionable outcomes against far more frightening beasts, their instincts driving them to devour and kill. Despite the damage that his foe had tacked onto him, it only served to grant Seiichi Koji a second wind as he twisted around with a claw he had unequipped, hurling it toward them as he then chased it down in a hot pursuit to follow up after the newly provisioned projectile. There was a rage in those sea-green eyes as they darkened and, at that moment, it seemed as if the lifeless pelt worn above his unkempt hair mirrored his fury as he broke forward at a speed he'd yet demonstrate.

The man who gripped that dangerous blade would be forced to deflect or attempt a dodge, while simultaneously preparing for a strike that the Jounin telegraphed as he closed in what had been a relatively short distance for starters-- possible four meters before the gi-wearing ninja could turn around on account of the damage he'd taken. As he moved in, bringing down those slashing claws -- he stopped, suddenly, and a powerful right arm sprung forward with a devastatingly straight punch that would crash into his chest if he weren't wiser to the feint. It was a difficult series of events to respond to, considering the bladed ninja would have to decipher the Kumo Jounin's trick after deflecting the frightful claw that flew at him which initially heralded Seiichi's approach. It was the very punch that could shatter boulders, the strike he had practiced countless times in his last few decades of life. It was blunt trauma that would have thrown any man back several feet without breath in his breast or wits in his mind. However, not ignorant, Seiichi recognized that his opponent could counter if they had the speed about them. So, ever vigilant, he relied on his combat sense to guide his next actions if his envisioned attack had fallen through.

[attr="class","APP3"]It sounded like a painful crack, not one much unlike the visceral sound of splitting that cried from a tree when the burden of his blows grew to heavy for them to remain upright. There was no denying he'd given that strike considerable effort in that heated moment, failing to exercise proper restraint like a duel required. His failure to do so lead to a sour outcome, dealt in such an extreme extent that shudder or cry failed to escape its recipient. Having fallen into a stance at the completion of the attack, he slowly straightened himself out and walked forward. His foe, still void in name to Seiichi, seemed idle save for the hacking coughs behind their mask. They did little in terms of movement, only the manner which gravity commanded they sink onto the base of the trees trunk occurred.

His approach was executed with little noise, save for the rough pads of his feet to crunch the dearth beneath him. It was only natural that, as he closed the distance between them, that he grew in size the closer he drew. He moved untethered to any notion of pain, still teeming in vigor as he sustained only minimal injury that was bound to correct itself with proper attention. Despite their catatonic stance, slumped and free of tension save for the cough that seized them forward when it stroke them with a fit, Seiichi kept watchful eyes on those loose limbs should they behave dangerously. If conditions for a safe approach were met he'd stop before them as he close he could and crouched.

Smack, smack

"Don't you sleep," he patted heavily at the man's face, "Come-- up to your feet. You'll do better with tea in your gullet." He suggested with that rumbling voice, the meaty paw that had discarded that claw of his to bat at the ninja's face a couple of times more to rouse them from their stupor. There was no telling, but perhaps it was just enough to keep them them from teetering over the edge and into darkness. He had never intended death, even with the use of those weapons that aided him in victory. The Jounin of Kumogakure rose, but not without extending a beefy arm that had an opened and rough hand at the end of it. It did him little good to leave a man he planned to challenge once again to the reaper. He remained watchful of the stranger and their course of action, however. Should he act in a dangerous manner while the Shinobi extended this olive branch, he'd respond appropriately.

Or, if they hadn't the strength to raise an arm and meet with the Jounin's hand, Seiichi would instead heave them onto a shoulder to deposit them before the borders of the closest settlement he could find and then would make haste to be on his way.