They were leagues away from the mountain-top village. Shiori couldn't even see the foreboding clouds that made their permanent home atop her home. A chill of dread and loneliness crept up her spine at being so far away from home for the first time. But she was a shinobi now, and if she wanted to continue down this path then she would have to endure a lot more. She'd have to endure a lot more than a bad-mouthing merchant, a rickety old wagon, rugged mountain roads, and the threat of ambushes. One day soon, she would have to join the war waged for so long by her family.

The horse slowed to a stop, shaking Shiori away from her thoughts. She stood up and peeked over Takada to see that they would have to traverse a mountain path. The path was incredibly narrow, not unlike the paths towards Yamamura. Those paths had been set there to be used for ambushes, and a tug in Shiori's gut informed her that an enemy might have just thought the same thing about this path. "Mr. Takada, we must venture with caution." Takada muttered a curse about having a stupid ninja escort him, but made the horse walk slowly nonetheless. Shiori, for her part, had a kunai out.

After a half an hour ride, Shiori saw them. She harshly whispered for Takada to stop, pointing towards the numerous traps set out to hinder their passage. The horse whinnied to a stop, his hoof an inch away from a wire. Shiori's gut had been right. She maneuvered herself to stand between whatever adversity was to befall them and the man she was ordered to protect. She took on a defensive stance, eyes watching her surroundings like a hawk. She was prepared to tap in to her supply of chakra and make use of the ninjutsus she was trained to master. She just needed to see her opponent.