A/N: This is a little side project I'm working on. It's going to be a multi-chapter with sporadic updates, but probably not as long as the others. Also, the intro is a little disjointed, but since it's amusing and ties in with a scene later, I left it in. Enjoy!

Desert Lions

Welcome, reader. I hope you came prepared to hear a story. It's not as grand a story as you might hear in the halls of elves or in the glens of fairies (who I hear tell the best tales), but it is sure to delight, at least for a time. Had this been a story from the fairies, I'm sure that our hero and heroine would have been a prince and a princess who fall in love with each other. And had it come from the elves, they would have lived happily ever after. But our story today comes from the sprites, who are much more mischievous and untamed than their winged cousins, and have far shorter lives than the elves. In fact, this particular story comes from a nomadic desert sprite, of the sort who enjoys sandstorms and cooking eggs on bare rocks. Because of this, our hero and heroine are not royalty (though in different circumstances one of them would have been), they don't play in magical forests with unicorns, and they get the same happy ending the rest of us get. It is also much longer than a normal tale of fairy ilk. If you've ever had to wait out a sandstorm with nothing else to do, you'd know why. (Swirling debris can only hold one's attention for so long.) So grab a snack, park your butt, and enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

The morning sun was glowing on the horizon, fading the black night sky to navy blue as Temari filled her last water bottle and shoved it into her pack next to the half dozen bottles already there. She grabbed a box of salt next, as well as a few other provisions, and hastily packed them away. Glancing out the window, a silent curse at the strengthening light left her lips before she shouldered her pack, picked up her fan, and walked out the door. There was no need to run, since she would be travelling in the hot sun all morning and it would be a bad idea to wear herself out before getting started. But that didn't negate the fact that she would most likely hear a lecture over her tardiness, especially if she didn't reach the Suna outpost and relieve Matsuri by noon.

She briskly made her way to the gate, dark blonde ponytails bobbing to the rhythm of her fast steps as she left a disturbed trail of dust and sand behind her. The streets of Suna were quiet, most people still in bed or just getting up, cursing early mornings and short showers. The occasional shinobi passed her on their way to various posts, relieving the night watch. The guards at the gate had not switched from the night before, and she nodded to their drowsy forms before being swallowed by the ravine that was the only outlet from the village. Reaching the other side, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the increasing brightness and set off across the desert.

Normally, it was a death sentence to go out alone, but the outpost she was assigned to for the week was only half a day away and, by desert standards, not that dangerous to get to. In fact, the only downside to the mission was that nothing ever happened. And since nothing ever happened there, only one shinobi at a time was ever posted there. Which made said shinobi insanely bored five minutes after getting there, and just plain insane by the end of the week. Usually, the job was doled out as punishment to genin who had messed up on a mission, but not enough to get into serious trouble. But now, with a war raging in the surrounding countries and more ninja out on missions than usual, it landed on whoever happened to be available. And since Gaara was busy running the village and Kankuro the Puppet Corps, that left Temari more available than most.

Keeping the sun on her right, she headed north, her eyes roaming the familiar emptiness of the sand dunes. The horizon dipped and rose, the outline soft as the rising sun bathed the land in new light. An already warm breeze stirred the sand around her, smooth, visible currents slithering along as if racing ahead to alert someone of her presence. The occasional boulder held its ground against the encompassing sand, and Temari found herself studying the new cracks and crevices in each one as she passed. For the desert was an ever changing landscape, the constantly shifting grains the paintbrush of time. And that flux was one thing she loved about it. Most people only saw barrenness in the Wind Country, but there was life in the land itself. She felt it in the stirring air, in the shifting beneath her feet, in the creatures tough enough to exist here. Where even plant life failed, they continued to survive, despite the harsh odds. She felt a deep pride that the people of her village could be considered such creatures.

The sun rose higher, and Temari arrived at the monolith that marked her halfway point. The heat was sweltering now, and it was time for her only stop. She moved to the shaded western side and sat down to rest, pulling a water bottle from her pack. Sipping the still cool water slowly as she wiped the sweat from her face, she stretched her muscles in preparation to move again. She wanted to stay longer, but not only was she still a little behind, she was no longer alone. Scorpions skittered past her on the sand, tails twitching nervously as they grew more disturbed by her company. Standing up, she watched them run in and out of the burrow at the base of the rock behind her. They weren't the lethal variety, but still carried a potent sting that would have her swelling almost immediately. Keeping an eye on a particularly brave one near her sandal, Temari took a final bolstering drink before stowing her bottle and continuing on her way.

The rest of her journey was quiet and uneventful, and she was more than grateful to see the tall form of the outpost on the horizon just as the sun reached its peak. Quickening her pace, she closed the distance to the tower, giving a friendly wave when she spotted Matsuri on the upper deck. The dark-haired girl disappeared soon after, and in a minute the concealed door at the bottom opened. Pack already on, Matsuri emerged, a worn smile on her face.

"Ready for civilization again?" Temari asked, returning the smile with a knowing smirk.

"Yes. Not one thing happened the entire week, Temari-san." she replied with a groan.

"Well, that's better than something actually happening. I will see you in a few days."

"Alright."

That was the end of it, and Temari watched Matsuri head off before she strolled inside, closing the heavy door behind her. Glancing around, she noted that everything was basically the same since she had been here last. The lower level consisted of three rooms, a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a very spartan bedroom with a cot and a set of shelves containing a few spare weapons, scrolls, household items and emergency medical supplies. In the kitchen there was a winding staircase that rose a good four stories high, leading up to a room with large windows all the way around, and a single door that led to the deck outside. The blinds were raised, letting light fall across an ancient desk and chair set in the very middle. The large log book that rested on top was open, and Temari walked over and picked up the pen that lay beside it, quickly writing her name along with the date and time beneath Masuri's. She noted that the other kunoichi's checks of the area were carefully recorded as always, and just as she said, nothing at all had happened.

Officially signed in, Temari dropped her pack on the desk, strapped her fan on her back, and walked out on the deck to do her initial sweep of the surrounding area. As she made her way around the short circle, she saw the speck that was Matsuri growing smaller. A small smile curled her lips; she really was eager to get home. 'Probably to drool over Gaara.' she added mentally with a snort.

Not seeing anything else of interest, she walked back inside and over to the large cage that rested in one corner. The post's lone messenger hawk sat dozing with its head under its wing. Seeing that it had plenty of food and water, Temari left it alone and moved to sit at the desk, propping her fan against the side. She pulled a book she had been waiting to read from her pack and checked the time on the little desk clock before opening the novel to the first page. There was approximately two hours' worth of distance between her and the horizon on all sides, so as long as she made a round on the deck every hour, her small domain was more than adequately covered.

The hours seemed to drag by, until finally the sun began to set. Marking her place and closing the book with a heavy sigh, Temari rose from the chair and stretched. She didn't know how Shikamaru managed to be so inactive all the time. The last time she went to Hidden Leaf as ambassador, they had some free time and Shikamaru suggested they go to the park and hang out. She hadn't realized at the time that 'hanging out' meant sitting in one spot and staring at the sky for five hours. It nearly drove her crazy. In this respect, she didn't begrudge Ino her relationship with him at all. If she had to do it all the time, she would have murdered him by now out of sheer boredom.

Pushing thoughts of the couple from her mind, she made yet another uneventful round of the deck before grabbing her pack and heading down the stairs. A shower would definitely put her in better spirits. As efficiently as possible, so as not to waste their most precious resource, she cleaned up and stepped out, glancing at her soaked image in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. Her blonde hair hung heavily to her shoulders, her feathered bangs framing her cheeks. Her dark teal eyes shone from her tanned face, and she smirked back at herself as she turned to turned to the side, studying her outline. She might not be the groomed beauty that Yamanaka Ino was, but she had a perfectly toned body, and a wild allure that suited her more tomboyish nature.

Without bothering to dry off, knowing any moisture would evaporate in a matter of moments in the dry desert air, she unzipped her pack and pulled out a neatly folded section of bright blue fabric. Unwinding the tasseled sarong, she gave it a shake before wrapping it around her slender waist and knotting it over her left hip. She smoothed the light cotton down, admiring the thick, black tribal pattern that crisscrossed the fabric. Next came a pair of black underwear and silky black tank top, which she pulled on without preamble. Lastly, she retrieved a set of plain silver bands from a back pocket in her pack and snapped them into place around her ankles. Leaving her feet bare, she gathered up her dirty clothes and shoved them into her pack before walking to the small bedroom and depositing it on the cot.

A more genuine smile curved her lips as she made her way to the kitchen to fix herself something for dinner. The cool stone floor sent a pleasant chill through her feet as her skirt rippled with her every step. She could only imagine what the people she knew would say about such an outfit if they saw it, which was why she reserved it for her trips here and when she was out on solo missions. Not that she really cared, but Kankuro's teasing was insufferable, and she would rather avoid a lecture from Gaara and Baki about the ineffectiveness of the ensemble if at all possible. Besides, she wasn't quite as self-confident as she let on, and even though she really enjoyed the sense of rustic femininity she got with it, she wouldn't dare go around flashing so much of her thigh in the village. Her hard-won credibility would go down as quickly as the leering idiots who thought themselves man enough to approach her.

She took a relaxing breath as the evaporating water from her body continued to cool her, plopping down at the table with her meager meal of lizard and rice. As she savored the meat, the memory of the first meal she shared with the Konoha nin drifted across her mind. The faces Naruto and Sakura made mid-mouthful as Kankuro revealed what they were eating were priceless. Team Gai never even blinked, having eaten far more exotic cuisine before. Kakashi, of course, was unsurprised and said that he actually preferred the scorpion. That had iced the cake, and Naruto had nearly lost it then and there while Sakura stared at her food as if were crawling with maggots. With a huff, Temari had told them that not every country was blessed with forests full of deer and fields of cows, and if they didn't like it, they could eat somewhere else. Sakura immediately apologized, but Naruto looked slightly queasy for the rest of the night, barely touching anything until dessert.

After finishing up and washing her dishes, Temari grabbed a pomegranate and headed back upstairs to do another sweep of the horizon from the deck. The sun was nearly down, setting the sky on fire in brilliant shades of red and gold, the sand beneath reflecting the colors almost as well as water. There was a nice breeze going, so after making her way around, she pulled the lone chair from against the outside wall to the edge of the deck and sat down. Her anklets clinked together as her feet went up on the rail and she crossed her legs, the fabric of the sarong draping from her knee halfway to the floor. Her left leg was exposed up to her hip, the feathery tassels tickling her thigh.

She ate the seed-like flesh of the pomegranate slowly, closing her eyes on the last bite to let the taste of it wash over her. Then she threw the rind as far as she could over the railing, watching as it sailed into the distance and bounced on the sand before stopping. Some creature would enjoy the lucky find before the desert claimed it as it did all things. Licking her fingers clean of the juice, Temari tilted her head to rest it on the back of the chair. The breeze felt so good, and she was so relaxed she suddenly found herself wishing she could just stay here forever. Before she knew it, her eyes were drifting shut, and though she tried to fight it, she was soon dozing in the fading light, hands hanging limply at her sides.

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Several hours earlier, and far to the north, a lone figure rested in the sparse shade provided by an even more alone stand of dead trees, the wood long since petrified. Glossy red hair, tipped in black, hung down in a face already deeply tanned, protecting it from the fierce sun of the desert. Striped light landed on muscled arms, bare and beginning to show signs of sunburn.

With the fingers of one hand wrapped around a nearly empty water bottle, Kisho lightly poked at what was sure to be a blister with the other. He was sorely regretting his choice of clothing at the moment. His tank top and mesh might be cool, but it offered no protection either. Luckily, his pants were full-length and his legs weren't suffering the same fate. Drawing his sandaled feet deeper into the shade, he took another drink as he waited for midday to pass so he could be on his way again.

A sigh escaped him as he licked his already peeling lips. At least he wouldn't have to deal with this harsh environment for much longer. Suna was only a day away now, and after he collected the intel the Tsuchikage required, he would be on his way back home to Iwa. Then he would request a few days off to relax and wipe this miserable place from his mind. It actually wouldn't be so bad if it weren't so… empty. But it was just flat sand, and hilled sand, and rocks, and wind that blew more sand in your face. There wasn't anyone around to talk to but yourself, and if you talked to yourself too much, you had to wonder if the heat was getting to you. He decided then and there that he would never complain about the biting cold winters of Earth Country ever again.

At last the sun began to descend towards the west, and Kisho pushed himself to a sitting position. He emptied his now warm water bottle and stuffed it into his pack before retrieving another, along with a white handkerchief. Dousing it with the water, he drew it around the back of his neck and knotted it in place. He thought it looked stupid, but it would keep him from getting too hot and having a stroke. He wet his hands and ran them over his face before taking another drink and putting the bottle back in his bag. Zipping it closed, he stood and slung it over his shoulder. Time to get going.

He set a steady pace, keeping one eye on the sun to judge direction and time. An hour more passed and his mind started to wander. Sweat beaded on his face, and he absently wiped it away as he watched sand skitter around his feet and two jutting rocks on either side of him shifted away from each other. He had just registered the fact when there was a slight vibration beneath his feet. The ground opened up under him and he was suddenly falling through black space.

Reacting quickly, he reached for any kind of handhold he could find. His fingers found purchase for a moment on the edge, but the dampness from his sweat left him sliding downward at breakneck speed. In his scramble to prevent certain death, his pack came loose and was sent hurdling into the darkness below. He pushed chakra to his limbs to enhance his grip as the jagged surface gashed his hands and arms and tore his pants at the knees, but the shifting rocks kept breaking his hold. At last a tiny ledge halted his progress, and panting and bloodied, he clung to the rock face. Several seconds later, he heard the crash of his pack as it landed somewhere beneath him.

The earth settled into quiet repose soon after, but sand continued to shower down on his head from above. He gathered his thoughts as both the sand and his breathing slowed, and he peered downward to see if he could spot his pack. The light didn't reach that far, and as he counted back the seconds from when it started to fall until he heard it land, he figured it was now irretrievable. Moroseness settled over him as he gently shifted on the ledge, hoping his movements didn't dislodge it.

This was great. He just traded a quick death for a slow one of dehydration.

Narrowing his eyes in determination despite himself, Kisho judged the distance from where he was now to the rim of the crack. Sand hit his cheeks as he craned his neck back, and he had to spit out several grains when he forgot to breathe through his nose. Thankfully, he hadn't fallen overly far, and with help from his chakra, he should be able to scale it in a few minutes. He wished he could just jump out, but travelling all day combined with the intense heat had sapped his physical strength, which in turn lowered his available chakra. And since he had a minor ability to absorb it from others, his initial level wasn't that high to begin with. Besides all that, he was deep in enemy territory, and if he used that much chakra at once, someone was bound to notice, if they weren't already on their way because of the tremor.

Finding a decent handhold, he curled his fingers around the knobby earth and hauled himself upward, one painstaking foot at a time. His fingers slipped twice, and he almost lost his balance, but an extra boost of chakra at the last second kept him securely in place. Once he was out of the shadow of the chasm, the sun jumped in to torment him as well, renewing his need to sweat, which ran down his face and stung his eyes. The shine from his forehead protector bounced off the wall in front of him, hindering his sight further. He could feel grit and sand collecting in his wounds, and he mourned the loss of his pack once more. If they got infected and he ran a fever, the desert would claim him for sure.

At last his hands breached the rim, and with a burst of chakra that he didn't know he still had, he boosted himself over the edge and rolled onto his back, eyes squeezed shut against the world. His arms and legs were burning as they hadn't since his training as a genin, and his chest was heaving from exertion. A dry cough welled up in his throat, and he rolled onto his stomach as he gave into the spasms, his dirty hair falling around his face. He didn't stay there long though, the sun slowly eating away at the now exposed back of his neck.

With what seemed like a monumental effort, Kisho stood. He regained his bearings, and stood facing Suna once more. From what he figured, he had a better chance of survival by going on instead of back. Retreating the way he came was almost certain death; he would never make it out of the desert before his body gave out on him. But once he reached the outskirts of Suna, he could maybe steal some water or manage to get some from an understanding civilian. Or if he was insanely lucky, there would be a deserted oasis nearby.

He went to take a step forward and stumbled, his overexerted leg muscles protesting the movement loudly. He tried again and got the same response. It looked like he would need to employ his alternate method of travel. If he even had enough energy to pull it off. But if he didn't try, he would die where he stood. If he tried and failed, he would be out of chakra and die anyway. If he did manage it, he would probably draw attention to himself and die in an interrogation chamber. A thought occurred to him and he bitterly chuckled to himself as he forced his bleeding hands together to form the first seal.

He had all the sunshine he could handle, but where the hell were the rainbows?

Oh, that's right. Rainbows require water. Silly him.

Shoving his sarcasm aside, he finished the last hand seal and held his hand out, palm toward the earth. Normally for this jutsu he would kneel and place his hand directly on the ground, but he was half afraid that once he got back down there he wouldn't get up again. This way was a little less effective, but it was all he could do at the moment. Sand whirled up as he released his chakra, followed by smaller stones loosened by the earthquake. He concentrated harder and at last felt the tell-tale vibration that meant his jutsu was working. A portion of the chasm wall broke loose and lifted toward him, providing him with enough material to start molding his construct.

His chakra flowed through the stone, altering its density and changing its shape according to his design. He formed legs and a torso first, and then the leonine head appeared as he dropped his hand. It was far from perfect, without a working mouth and no tail, and the whole thing lacked detail, but it was functional, and that was all that mattered. Sightless eyes regarded him a moment, then the sound of dry, grinding joints filled the air as it moved to stand at his side, following his unspoken directive. Reaching out a lethargic arm, Kisho managed to pull himself onto his stone lion, practically dragging his legs into position.

The lion stood still a moment, then took off at a sluggish canter towards Suna. Grateful for the reprieve, and the coolness produced by his drying sweat, Kisho slumped forward a little, relying on his experienced balance to keep him from sliding off. At this moment, muscle memory was a glorious thing. He was more tired than he could ever remember being in his life, which was actually to his advantage, since it helped him ignore his parched throat and peeling lips.

As the hours wore on, the lion's pace slowed until it was all but walking, reflecting the exhaustion of its master. The sun started dipping toward the west, losing strength and accenting the shimmer rising from the sand as the desert began releasing the heat it held throughout the day. The temperature actually soared before it began its nightly descent into near freezing, sending its inhabitants scurrying for shelter. All of this went unnoticed by the Stone ninja, whose senses were dead to everything except the chakra flowing to direct the lion and the path ahead of him. He failed to notice that his hands were no longer in front of him, but hanging limply at his side, or the fact that he had ceased to sweat altogether. His vision was starting to blur, and chills ran up his spine from the sunburn blisters peppering his arms, face, and neck.

He kept going forward, hoping he was still traveling in a straight line. His mind was screaming at him in alarm, but he was too far gone to respond. His chakra was down to a trickle now, and he was still at least a half a day from Suna. There was a tall black shape dead ahead of him, growing larger by the second, but he couldn't focus on it at all in the haziness of twilight. The air was cooler now, but it was too late to feel relief. Somewhere in the back of his mind he came to grips with the fact that this was it. Despite all of his efforts, he was going to die, not at the hands of his enemies, but as a victim of the merciless environment they called home. He managed a subconscious smirk even as his lips split and began to bleed. At least they wouldn't have the satisfaction of killing him. His vision was nearly completely black now, and he fell forward, chin resting on the warm rock shifting beneath him.

Just as he lost consciousness there was a bone-jarring thump as his now chakra-less lion hit something solid and crumbled into dust, leaving him helpless and exposed in the rubble.