Momijigari

It wasn't difficult to spot the newcomer, with her dappled black and purple coat she stood out as clear as could be. Seemingly alien in this autumn embraced grove. Hattori's nose twitched, noting the various scents that clung to her coat and concluded that whilst he could not put a name to it,  it was obvious she belonged to a collective. Whether it was a pack or a band he could not say, nor did he really care, to be honest. She offered him a smile which did not reach her eyes, no doubt as a form of wordless greeting. In turn, Hattori stared back, unblinking, as he watched her pick the seasonal berries.

Hattori had never been much of a gatherer as he simply did not care for it, but in her condition it made sense that she stick to less risky endeavours. Still, he didn't really believe a pregnant woman should venture far from home at all, but it wasn't really his business and he didn't know her. Or care too. Simply put, a shinobi did not stick his nose where it wasn't needed and though his rank had changed his mantra had not.

He turned, eying one of the larger trees that resided in the grove and noted the massive claw like slashes that had been made in its bark.