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There was a new wanderer wandering his way into the village. Someone that perhaps a few residents might recognize, though few of them indeed would have known him at this age.
Some things have always been the same. That mane of fluffy white hair -- well, that color's all natural, every bit as snowy in his twenties as it will be in his fifties, and there are the beginnings of familiar red markings on his cheeks -- though they're much shorter and narrower, tapering as they do to points on his cheekbones.
Jiraiya's still tall and broad-shouldered, humming cheerfully to himself as he strolls on in. This young man hasn't been a regular-duty ninja for quite a while. You will travel the world, the wise old toad told him, and he was certainly doing just that!
So here he was, making his way into Michi no Sato, curious about this new place, interested to learn what he would learn, hear what he would hear.
Some things have always been the same. That mane of fluffy white hair -- well, that color's all natural, every bit as snowy in his twenties as it will be in his fifties, and there are the beginnings of familiar red markings on his cheeks -- though they're much shorter and narrower, tapering as they do to points on his cheekbones.
Jiraiya's still tall and broad-shouldered, humming cheerfully to himself as he strolls on in. This young man hasn't been a regular-duty ninja for quite a while. You will travel the world, the wise old toad told him, and he was certainly doing just that!
So here he was, making his way into Michi no Sato, curious about this new place, interested to learn what he would learn, hear what he would hear.
