Private
A black smudge had been drawn across his old pack’s emblem, for a decent piece of bandana had yet to be acquired. His loyalties hadn’t changed though, for he had never devoted any part of himself to the underground pack. He hadn’t decided if Salsola was worthy of his time, but he knew that there were no specific needs that he wished to fulfil. As long as his contentment remained stable, he would fall into his daily routines until his nature required change. There were certain things he lacked, but he did not lust for illogical things, such as silly birds and their song.
His mother’s second twin sword rested by his hip, for there was danger beyond the well marked borders of the Family. Beneath his skin, above his heart, there was an itch, an echo of the pain of a broken collar bone. But it was completely healed at this time, and while he was too young to be experienced in the art of fighting, he was more prepared. It was too easy to gain enemies amongst the inhabitants of these lands. So Itachi did not stray far from the home he had grown so accustomed to. Not because of fear, but because he had no reason to stray.
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