-- Panic Button
So, the Kazekage, Mizukage and Risuka had held a private meeting a few weeks ago (oh-so-conveniently when the majority of their top jounin were out collecting meagre supplies) and had got the Mizukage to agree on sending aid. In fact, he had oh-so-generously brought supplies. Her lip curled in contempt. She wouldn’t trust that man as far as she could throw him. A Kiri ninja was unlikely to be anyone’s saviour any time soon. No. He had his own agenda- and it had been made very apparent when the Kazekage's aide had relayed the information to his subjects. Everyone had looked so relieved at getting supplies, at not having to eat the rats they caught, that they had stared at Risuka and the Kazekage like they were a pair of saints without even understanding that this had been a trade. Not aid. “Risuka Hoki is such a diplomatic lady, it was no wonder Kazekage-Sama had her at the meeting.” Zerine had fumed at the doddery guys that were still praising the woman she hated above all and the temperature had dropped in the meeting room by at least ten degrees.
“No water here and yet men can still find ways to drool over others.” Perhaps there needed to be a voice of reason among the heads that were clearly enraptured in Risuka’s ‘charm’. “What Kazekage-Sama's,” she unnecessarily spat at the ‘sama’ honourific before continuing, “aide is saying is that we gave the blood of our shinobi to Mist Village, in exchange for our dinner for a few nights. I didn’t know Suna Shinobi were that cheap to hire that bread is now worth more than our blood. Enjoy your meal.” She made sure to make eye contact with every single traitor in the room before standing up and stalking out of the place. Let them enjoy the food at the cost of their fellow shinobi. She hoped there would be enough guilt left in them to throw up their next meal. And that Mizukage had so craftily scraped their shinobi out of Suna… This is what happened when wolves were allowed a place and rank of trust. Wolves who did not care or give a damn about the worth of shinobi. Her leader was desperate… Zerine knew that. Sunagakure was starving… yes… but… fifteen active shinobi…!! “He’s like a kid with a panic button. So quick to ask for help!” Dragging a wrist across what were supposed to be dry lips- she scowled when she noted the beads of blood that had dribbled down the side of her mouth. She wiped quickly and swallowed the bloodied mucous that had crawled up the back of her parched throat. Her eyes narrowed, almost accusingly at the fact that her body had betrayed her in a place that was not as private as her own home. At least she was out of that god forsaken meeting room. This was a minor inconvenience and the dark-haired ninja pulled out a small vial containing white tablets. Dry swallowing two, alongside another, common soldier pill, she allowed herself to fume over everything that had occurred. There was one bright side to all of this. She had got out of babysitting dumb genin. Zerine did not want to waste her time teaching kids how to hold a kunai and walk on water when she was so close to getting her revenge. And she had also spied the genin at the Suna gates, wearing their dolphin-like smiles and wearing shiny forehead protectors. Thank you, all the sand in the world, for getting her out of that disaster. Maybe her luck was turning around. Maybe she could finally squeeze more information out of that mole – Zerine turned the corner and her eyes narrowed. Or maybe, her life was exactly how she looked right now. A constipated cow that realised it had been eating its own beef. “What do you want?” She glowered, skipping aside any pleasantries. She was too old and too angry to care.