The broken patrol marker seemed to stare right back at them as if mocking them.
No one spoke as they kept their guard and vigilance up and surveyed every direction.
Baki's gaze swept the horizon, then lowered to his team. His voice, when it came, was low and controlled.
"Form up."
Isan shifted first, stepping closer to Daiana, positioning himself slightly ahead of her as if by instinct. His sword was not yet drawn from it's sheath, but his hand rested firmly on it's hilt,
Daiana tightened her grip on her bow and had drawn an arrow, her eyes flicked between the surrounding dunes, pupils narrowed.
Shira adjusted the strap of his heavy backpack, ready to let it slide down to the ground in one practiced motion if necessary.
His stance widened, bare hands flexing open and closed, fingers scarred and raw, while inhaling deeply, once, to steady his breathing, then lowered himself slightly, like a predator ready to spring into action.
Grit clung to his arms and sweat marked his brow, but none of it dulled the edge of his presence.
The wind whistled through the marker's splintered wood, a thin, eerie sound like a flute played off-key.
Baki, himself, was scanning the ridges of the dunes, his turban shifted with the wind.
"Let's move."
Every dune looked the same, every shadow lengthened in unnatural stillness. The broken patrol marker seemed to draw the air inward, as if the sands themselves were listening.
A soft hiss cut through the quiet.
Daiana spun around, bow raised and arrow drawn, her breath caught in her chest.
Shira also sprung into action immediately letting go of his heavy backpack before turning in the direction of the sound.
Only to find a lizard, its scales glinting green and bronze as it skittered across the sand. It froze beneath the arrow's point, head twitching, then darted into a crack in the stone.
The silence after felt worse than before.
Isan exhaled slowly, the faintest whisper, not quite relief but rather worried, even after some missions there was no way to erased tension from the unknown. They were things and shinobi far more powerful and terrifying in the world than a jōnin or elite jōnin, or even kages, and fear was a natural response to it.
Another sound followed, low and drawn out, the moan of wind pushing through narrow stone.
It rose and fell, almost like voices calling from the distance.
Daiana's skin prickled as she tightened her grip on the bow, gaze searching for human shapes among the dunes. The noise faded, replaced by the scrape of sand trickling down slopes, like feet trying to hide their steps.
"Hold.", Baki murmured, voice nearly lost to the wind.
A shadow shifted high on a dune crest, elongated by the setting sun.
Isan squinted, his heart pounding a little, then blinked. The shadow was gone in the next moment, it felt like a trick of the wind pulling clouds across the sand's surface.
A small smile began tugging at Isan's lips as it felt like the desert was teasing them, every breath of wind, the presence of even the smallest of animals were felt by them.
Then came the sound of steel.
A faint, ringing note that of steel brushing against steel, carried by the wind. It was brief, gone in a heartbeat, but undeniable.
From the crest of a dune, figures rose like wraiths from the sand. Cloaked in desert cloth, their movements were smooth, deliberate and practiced.
Sunlight caught on their curved blades and kunai, glinting fiercely.
Daiana's arrow was already drawn, the string whispering taut.
Shira slid one foot forward, shoulders low, fists tightening until the scars across his knuckles whitened.
Isan adjusted his stance, already kunais filled his hands angled for both defense and strike, his gaze never leaving the shifting line of attackers.
More shadows broke free from the dunes.
It seemed that they had been lying beneath the sand itself, half-buried, waiting for them to stumble close.
Baki did not move immediately, his one visible eye narrowed at the sight of these 'enemies', reading the most he could from them, from their numbers to their visible gear.
"Seven...", he said, calm as stone.
"Form around Daiana. Don't hold back."
The order was carried out swiftly as the genin moved without question, with Daiana retreating a step into their center, bow aimed steady between her teammates' shoulders.
Shira braced forward, his presence a wall of raw muscle and will.
Isan flowed to the side, kunai catching the faint light, his mind racing through angles, escape routes, ways to protect the others, and much more.
The desert itself seemed to lean closer to spectate the fight that was about to erupt, the dunes echoing with the slow crunch of the hostile feet descending toward them.
Voices began to sound and reach them from the figures, their voices carrying over the sand like the wind.
"Not our usual quarry, eh?"
"Fresh ones."
"Let's see if they bleed faster.", a disgusting and weird slurp sound could be heard after this.
A ripple of dark laughter followed as the enemy began to charge at them.
Sand erupted beneath their feet, a storm of movement rushing down the slope.
Baki's voice dropped, low enough so that only his team would be able to hear him.
"Protect each other and keep a close watch on their hands."
Steel flashed dangerously, their voices high and filled with threats and insults, the desert's previous silence shattered into chaos.