Board Thread:Konoha Logs/@comment-26510601-20160428194222

It was just another day in Konoha, the streets were filled to the brim with people who were simply going about their daily lives. The sun was partially hidden by the many clouds above, providing some dull illumination to the world below. Every now and then, a small hole in the clouds would lead to a blinding ray of light that cast itself onto the Earth below. One such ray came into existence, its light falling upon the eastern gates of the village where a young man was walking through the large torii gate. Upon walking outside of it, he turned around to face the village for a moment, his green eyes giving one last look before turning around and walking down the worn trail before him.

His expression looked somewhat vacant, although a slight smirk was still poised on his lips as to suggest what he normally was like when not caught within deep thought. A chilling gust of wind blew through the trees as this boy walked onward, the forest danced slightly before the boy's tight, black kimono and hakama slightly contorted into new shapes in unison with his dark, brown hair that was fairly tousled.

There was nothing truly peculiar about this character, but he was carrying a bag with him that was slung from his left shoulder and hugging his right side. Inside were two bokken and a number of other live tools that this young man was planning to use to train and potentially spar with anyone he found at where he was going. His destination was the third training grounds, a relatively secluded but well-known area where some shinobi went to train amongst the many other training areas within and near Konoha.

It was upon arrival that Isamu could stop and observe the training grounds in its tranquil beauty, the feeling of blissful solitude it gave to him when he saw nor heard anything around. The great mountains in the distance, the flowing stream just some 30 feet away, and the surrounding forest that simply danced ever so lightly to the wind as it sangs its near-howling song to them.

The forest encircled this small open area, which had a diameter of about 30 ft. off before the forest established its hold. Slightly offset from the center were three small, wooden pillars that were horizontally aligned with one another. Isamu walked up to these pillars before dropping his bag off to the rightmost one and then sitting down to unzip the bag. Picking up the wooden katana from within, he began to inspect it as though trying to see any flaws or any other imperfections that would determine the quality of the bokken.

After giving the wooden sword its look, Isamu held it out between his two hands. His expression turned to that of unease, something about it just felt off.

'It's not like my katana,' Isamu thought as he looked over to the bag and saw his crimson-stained katana that rested against the second bokken and above the the bow and quiver with blunt arrows that were just below the two swords.

'It'll have to do I suppose.' The young boy concluded this before assuming a stance with bending his left arm and bringing back his katana to his side so that it wasn't directly in his face. In one fluid motion, he contorted his arms to where his katana shortly arced diagonally with the blade pointing to the ground before it swiftly came up with a whipping sound before it was put back into its original position. Delicate and precise movements such as this went on and on, Isamu beginning to go through his daily routine of training diligently in the art of his weapons. 