The silken strands flow outward, taunting, teasing with each forward movement. Travelers' clothes dulled and dusty with age exuded a particularly musky scent that was difficult to ignore. It was as much a part of the young man with straight, proud features who glanced back, expression querying as to the other's hesitance.

The outstretched fingers slowly closed, the arm falling to the side.

"It's nothing." Naoe said with no clear conscience.

The young man locked eyes momentarily with him, glimpsing the lie that lay beneath the surface. He was much too inexperienced then however, with the moods and complexities of the elder man to sufficiently analyze what he discerned.

Naoe hid his emotions well.

Kagetora could not know it was his simple gesture of motion. The sway and tilt of his long raven black hair tied back from his face that drew the hand of the other forward. Longing to capture the strands flowing like spiders' silk in the wind.


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