Kara was a wreck as she moved with haste to the Raikage building. She’d barely slept or ate as she had rushed to Kumogakure from Suna. It was quite unlike her to spend more time moving than taking care of herself, but after the news given to her by Seigi that Moonspire had fallen and that her love, Damien Darhk, had gone missing. . . it was all she could do to hold herself together. She knew better, had known better, than to allow herself to feel. To become attached was weakness, she’d always said it and yet here she was a haunted shadow of her former self as that attachment which she had allowed was but a wispy thread pulling her ever forward by her heart. She knew there was more at stake, even had been warned that she may very well be a target, but she didn’t care about anything but Damien’s safety.
As she moved through the streets she silently cursed herself for taking her time, for waiting and assuming that there would always be more days and nights. That she could afford to wait and take for granted that Damien would always be safe. For all of her intelligence she had discovered a flaw in herself, her insufferable arrogance in thinking that somehow everything would work the way it was meant to. That no one would dare harm her or her interests. She hadn’t been able to envision a world where anyone would try to hurt her, much less Damien. It was something that had taken many days of exhausting travel to come to terms with. And of course the notion had been pushed aside at first, but her missing forearm made it difficult to ignore the harsh reality. The reality being that there would always be someone who just wanted to hurt others, herself included. That reason and logic did not matter to those that did not possess them. She had relied so heavily on the idea that people were either able to be reasoned with or purchased should that fail, that to come across someone that responded to neither was troubling.
She had taken a small amount of time to change her clothing when Seigi and herself had travelled, while she didn’t much care about her appearance at the present time, she knew it would at least raise more questions than she necessarily wanted to answer before she found Damien. So she had opted for a black satin sleeveless gown, the tiniest bit of pride still making itself known in her clothing choices. Her right forearm was healed thanks to Seigi, but she made no effort to cover it, practically inviting anyone who looked at it to question her. Despite her newfound taste of mortality she still hadn’t quite internalized the idea that she could die. And so she walked with all the authority of someone who firmly believed they were as close to immortal as a human could get, however misguided, her stilettos making a sharp clacking noise as she made her way into the tower that she deduced to house the main administration office. Her ordinarily flawless visage was marred by dark circles under her eyes and a touch of sun on her face. While still pinned into a bun on her head, there were wisps of long blonde hair out of place, as though hurriedly put together. Her golden eyes were slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep and though she tried to remain impassive her voice cracked as she called out as soon as she crossed the threshold. “Where is Damien Darhk?”
As she moved through the streets she silently cursed herself for taking her time, for waiting and assuming that there would always be more days and nights. That she could afford to wait and take for granted that Damien would always be safe. For all of her intelligence she had discovered a flaw in herself, her insufferable arrogance in thinking that somehow everything would work the way it was meant to. That no one would dare harm her or her interests. She hadn’t been able to envision a world where anyone would try to hurt her, much less Damien. It was something that had taken many days of exhausting travel to come to terms with. And of course the notion had been pushed aside at first, but her missing forearm made it difficult to ignore the harsh reality. The reality being that there would always be someone who just wanted to hurt others, herself included. That reason and logic did not matter to those that did not possess them. She had relied so heavily on the idea that people were either able to be reasoned with or purchased should that fail, that to come across someone that responded to neither was troubling.
She had taken a small amount of time to change her clothing when Seigi and herself had travelled, while she didn’t much care about her appearance at the present time, she knew it would at least raise more questions than she necessarily wanted to answer before she found Damien. So she had opted for a black satin sleeveless gown, the tiniest bit of pride still making itself known in her clothing choices. Her right forearm was healed thanks to Seigi, but she made no effort to cover it, practically inviting anyone who looked at it to question her. Despite her newfound taste of mortality she still hadn’t quite internalized the idea that she could die. And so she walked with all the authority of someone who firmly believed they were as close to immortal as a human could get, however misguided, her stilettos making a sharp clacking noise as she made her way into the tower that she deduced to house the main administration office. Her ordinarily flawless visage was marred by dark circles under her eyes and a touch of sun on her face. While still pinned into a bun on her head, there were wisps of long blonde hair out of place, as though hurriedly put together. Her golden eyes were slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep and though she tried to remain impassive her voice cracked as she called out as soon as she crossed the threshold. “Where is Damien Darhk?”