"I suppose our first course of action is just getting there." Oushi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at his new companion. This would be a good chance to test out the older man's abilities in a way that wouldn't be too intrusive; Tousha would share whatever was comfortable, and Oushi had almost nothing to hide anymore. Truly, the benefit of strength was no longer needing to worry so much over details... not that that stopped him. Which is precisely why he looked backward again as they left town, his pipe trailing a ribbon of smoke behind him that hung heavily on the dry air,
"Do you have some idea of where we're heading? I'm not used to trees so much as I am cliffs and crags."
The old man had spoken to Tousha almost as though he weren't a member of town properly either, between his idle threat to throw the man out and saying that he too had been helping, so questioning his knowledge of the region was just good sense, especially given that the map itself was mostly chicken scratch, basic drawings of headings and nonsense notes about logging prospects. In hindsight, probably a much more valuable asset to The Carver himself and a clear sign of his desperation regardless of his gruff demeanor. Saint indeed. Still, despite his uncertainty Oushi led the pair confidently through the woods as they headed upland with the relentless pace and efficiency of an accomplished traveler, to the point that it almost seemed like he did in fact know the way. To the trained eye however it was simply good woodcraft and an experienced attention to terrain that allowed him to path his way effectively with the least amount of effort, his pipe still smouldering dutifully as though he were using the puffs to keep his rhythm. Presently he did speak, his tone level and completely absent any sign of fatigue now that he didn't have to worry about spooking a villager with clout. At the very least, this Tousha understood something of martial strength.
"There's always something meditative about a hunt. No complications, just the final result that matters. Skill helps, but luck is better, and you don't have to enter diplomatic negotiations with an elk before you eat it." he glided through the trees almost unconsciously,
"Never taken somebody with me though, at least no one who could talk back. Should be interesting."
No more than a dozen minutes later he stopped mid stride, ears visibly twitching at the slightest of rustles in the undergrowth some dozen yards to their right. Presently it came again, the punctuated silences indicating that whatever it was was picking its way through the woods with almost as much caution as themselves. Moving forward using a simple variation of Surface Walking, Oushi spread his prodigious weight out so far the loam barely shifted underneath him as the two came upon the space between two massive larch trees, not truly large enough to call a clearing but the needles drowning any potential growth from other competitors. On the opposite side, a small
figure trotted into view. Easily mistaken for a particularly large hare or fox although clearly neither, the creature's brown and black fur was so thick it nearly hid the fact that the long legs underneath it were well muscled, disproportionately lanky and well suited to darting through undergrowth at breakneck speeds should its dish sized ears detect anything. Large, expressive eyes gave it a constant look of mild panic but their forward direction made it clear this creature was as much predator as it was prey, a short snout leading to a strong jaw that had the unfortunate side effect of making its rotund face even chubbier. Finally a long, articulated tail curled behind it and the control made it clear this creature could easily take to the trees should it want, a grasping thumb at the bottom of each paw driving the point home. A small smile played at the edge of the hunter's mouth.
"Yamabiko." Oushi mouthed back at his partner, not even breathing enough to be properly called a whisper. His caution seemed warranted as the creature startled anyway, but refrained from dashing away just yet. Known to mountain dwellers, yamabiko had a reputation as being all the worst aspects of monkeys and raccoons, a distant relative of red panda that had clearly chosen chaos instead of bamboo. With a diet more consistent with vultures than with their cousins, the extremely well muscled dark meat was nevertheless often praised for its stews as much as it was fair compensation for tolerating sharing a mountain with the little pests. It was even rumored to have medicinal properties, their bones and organs were common ingredients in a poor man's approximation of soldier pills, used to nurture the disciples of smaller martial sects high in the mountains. It was a tepid recipe that didn't meaningfully break the taboo so much as aid in physical development but certainly lent credence to the reputation Rock Country northerners had for being tough as nails, producing a hearty physique that was more than a match for most genin when administered correctly. What a shame then that they were harder to catch than a housefly and twice as skittish.
With a polite, mildly expectant smile, the big shinobi produced a slender, well balanced throwing knife from somewhere within his sleeve so smoothly only a former Hokage wouldn't have missed the motion and offered it handle first. If Tousha declined it was no skin off his nose, but it was at least tacit acknowledgement of his skill, and he seemed the sort that would appreciate the opportunity to give back to the community... or at the very least couldn't afford to let Oushi play around like this and risk losing their prey while he made his decision. Perhaps a mildly manipulative tactic but ultimately a harmless one.
