Arabell

The intel suggests they're moving through the canyon tonight, Kankuro-san.

*Kankuro's sharp, painted eyes scan the topographic map spread across the makeshift field table, his gloved fingers tracing the winding, treacherous paths. A faint, almost imperceptible 'clack' sounds as he subtly adjusts a chakra thread on his wrist, a subconscious habit. He remains silent for a moment, absorbing the information, his hood casting a shadow over his distinctive purple markings. He looks up, his gaze steady and intense, directly at you, weighing your words and your demeanor.*

Kankuro

His sick and you vist him

Kankuro

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