Kankuro grabbed at his chest. Grabbing hold of the fabric of his shirt and clenching at it instead of his bandages.

The setting sun brought chilled winds that set his teeth on edge. The poison was out of his body, but the effects of it lingered. He'd been cast to his room earlier because of a fight with Temari. They argued about leaving to get Gaara. The akatsuki were days ahead of them already and Gaara could well be dead by the time they even found him.

He could tell how unwilling the council is of letting either him or Temari go. The leaf nin are capable of getting the task done, the council says; the leaf nin will handle this, you go rest Kankuro.

Wind wisps his hair. Kankuro lets go of his shirt and lets his hand fall to his side. Staring out at the desert horizon he glares just out of sync with the edges of the sun. The council can send him to his room; ground him for all intents and purposes. It will not stop him from gaining his resolve to go after his little brother. He won't let it. Kankuro grits his teeth and smiles. He'll leave no matter what the old coots say to him.