Everywhere one looked was just grass. Fields upon fields of tall grass all around, and there seemed to be no end to it. It had a heavy, earthy stench, dry and unpleasant, and it was rustling in the wind that shook its weather-worn stalks. The sky was dark under tumbling grey clouds, but it didn't seem like it was going to rain. Just more strong wind like before.
Seiki's sharp eyes searched the plains, from horizon to horizon, for any sign of the group of nomads that were said to hold a group of merchants hostage together with all their goods, and for the swamps those were rumored to be mostly found around. However, there was nothing than those darned grasslands anywhere!
He narrowed his eyes, glancing at a darker shape on the south-east, but it appeared to be nothing but more clouds. He cursed this task. Even though it was important to get it done, he still cursed it. This wasn't work for him... Truth be told, Seiki Adachi wasn't exactly the best person to chose when it came to fighting people - though he was very, very far from being the worst, though. However, a part of him that disliked killing the living was still somewhere there, even though he convinced himself that these people were evil. Nothing but criminals.
He took a deep breath and stopped, gazing in the direction they were walking in. The wind blew into his black robe and the lighter, high-collared coat worn over it, picking up its edges, lined with white. He slowly crossed his arms on his chest.
Something seemed to be odd, at least to him. The plains were too calm - usually, there was at least one tribe that would encircle travelers like them and ask for their money and belongings, but he and Akibi, who he traveled with, have encountered no signs of life all through this time.
"I don't like this, Akibi." he confessed. "This calm is unusual. There's nothing but wailing wind. And that is for five days straight already."