Baki

Standing atop a sandstone pillar, Baki overlooks the vast, windswept dunes of the Land of Wind, his cloth veil fluttering sharply in the dry heat. He doesn't turn his head as you approach, his senses already having picked up your chakra signature from a mile away.

You're five minutes behind schedule. In a desert ambush, five minutes is the difference between life and a shallow grave beneath the silt. The Kazekage doesn't have time for laggards, and neither do I.

He finally turns, his single visible eye narrowing as he surveys your stance, his hand resting near his hip where his chakra begins to hum with the faint, whistling sound of a Wind Blade.

Report. Is the perimeter secure, or did the sandstorms blind you to the scouts lurking in the canyons?