[THREAD TAKES PLACE IN EARLY 1018]
It had been a long time coming, but the success of the bandit group was finally showing itself in piles of wealth and a growing population of youths and slaves both. Somewhere in the masses of servants tending fields ever starved for water was Kana’s parents. But it had been a long time since they’d seen their faces; the bandit troupe was their family now.
The bandits were nomadic by necessity, always having to uproot their homes and drag loot and luggage across the desert as soon as rival clans or, worse, shinobi caught wind of their trail. And it was about time for the next move as Kana saddled up the horses in one of the larger tents, safe from the shade, and prepared them for their riders.
As they reached their own horse, the young amber mare that peacefully sunbathed in a shaft of light coming in through a hole somewhere high above, Kana took a moment to address her. They closed the distance slowly before placing both gentle hands on either side of the horse’s face and pressed theirs to hers. No words were exchanged but the emotional connection between the two of them was palpable. Throughout the tent there was an air of calm unlike anything in the inhospitable wasteland they took shelter from.
But that calm would be short lived.
A commotion rose from outside as people began to rush and shout, all punctuated by a loud blare of a horn that signaled an approaching enemy. It seemed they’d lingered here overlong and had been found out. Kana knew their role as bandits rushed in to mount their steeds and grab their weaponry.
The timing couldn’t have been better, with all of the steeds prepared for the long march through the desert. Kana rushed along to each horse and cut their saddlebags away; this wasn’t the first time this had happened and they were efficient, cutting the extra weight off one horse as the one behind them was mounted.
A sea of mounted raiders tore through the front of the tent, trampling its tearaway front before rushing out to meet the advanced opposition. Kana was last to join them, hopping up on their horse and grabbing a small bow.
They were only 12 years old but they were far from the youngest sent out to fight.
When they reached the lines they saw immediately that they were in serious trouble. A rival bandit camp was no issue, the fast paced mounted style of combat the Fūrinkazan bandit group employed made quick work of most regular brigands. But these weren’t "regular brigands”. They were shinobi of the hidden sand. It seemed their time was up; they’d had a good run and done well for themselves but doing so had clearly attracted the wrong kind of attention.
Kana let out a steady sigh, doing their best to calm their shaking limbs and pounding heart. It was in vain but the child knew there was nothing left to do but fight. They leaned forward, resting one hand on the side of their horse’s neck and tightening their grip on the bow's shaft in their right, and prepared to ride to their death.