The Land of Grass remained a no-go zone for the majority of shinobi; a new crop of fantastically-trained shinobi and some stealth technique they'd developed that was nigh-impossible to detect had rendered the place an operational minefield, with a civilian populace too large to keep effective track off, fertile soil everywhere that rendered logistics tracking too ineffective to be worthwhile, and a deeply suspicious native attitude that rendered plant insertions a low chance of success at all. About the only effective maneuver was finding grass shinobi on their missions and capturing them for interrogations - and that was a tactic about to run out of luck.
Jounin Mori Kanadate was set as oversight for a pair of Chunnin doing a standard patrol route along the Fire border, too young to know the cloaking jutsu that had maintained their independence in the brushfire wars so far. They'd chosen the same route seven days in a row, and the nearest outpost was at least a day away; if the Leaf nin were going to strike again, it'd be here. Reports stated that, invariably, one Grass shinobi would abruptly attack his teammates, incapacitate them, and carry them across the border if successful - it stank of Yamanaka mind-swap, and rather than put himself into danger openly it'd be much better if he ambushed her body while she remained immobile.
Crouching in the branches sixty feet above the ground on the Konoha side of the border, he had the characteristic lightly tanned skin of the meadow-dwellers, long and lithe like a serpent, all graceful limbs and long, tied-back black hair, silky as an otter's pelt. His green eyes steadily watched his subordinate's wandering path as it took them just past him, far below on the ground level - he didn't know if he'd catch the initial attack angle, but it would give him a good place to start on the hunt.
Jounin Mori Kanadate was set as oversight for a pair of Chunnin doing a standard patrol route along the Fire border, too young to know the cloaking jutsu that had maintained their independence in the brushfire wars so far. They'd chosen the same route seven days in a row, and the nearest outpost was at least a day away; if the Leaf nin were going to strike again, it'd be here. Reports stated that, invariably, one Grass shinobi would abruptly attack his teammates, incapacitate them, and carry them across the border if successful - it stank of Yamanaka mind-swap, and rather than put himself into danger openly it'd be much better if he ambushed her body while she remained immobile.
Crouching in the branches sixty feet above the ground on the Konoha side of the border, he had the characteristic lightly tanned skin of the meadow-dwellers, long and lithe like a serpent, all graceful limbs and long, tied-back black hair, silky as an otter's pelt. His green eyes steadily watched his subordinate's wandering path as it took them just past him, far below on the ground level - he didn't know if he'd catch the initial attack angle, but it would give him a good place to start on the hunt.