"I won't take your children, but I will take your place," Orochimaru said, as he wedged a dagger from between Rasa's third and fourth rib. He made sure the blood had a way to flow out of Rasa's body. Orochimaru had fought in an underhanded way that ensured his imminent victory. He gloated over the dying man, "Now, don't worry. I won't put on your Kazekage hat. I brought my own to show to Hiruzen~ All that's left now is the question... what to do with your body. Shall I give you to Sasori-kun, to Kabuto-kun, or shall I save your life? You look like a good conversation partner. It's your choice."
The blood that was supposed to be going into Rasa's brain, helping him think of a way out, was slowly seeping into the desert sands. Divine steel pierced his chest-- although that was the only thing keeping his insides in place. If Orochimaru pulled the thing out--- seconds would be all Rasa had left.
"A thief mistakes possession for ownership," Rasa whispered, more to himself than to his assailant. There was not much to say to Orochimaru after all--- not much that would make a difference.
At the end of the day, it was only a useless observation. Orochimaru, who was never entrusted enough to be given anything--- instead always took crumbs from a table he was never meant to dine at.
The blood was draining at a dizzying speed...
