He was not as powerful as he thought he was the day before.

The sun would not relent, beating down on the little Mater and his followers. He couldn't let them rest, not because of a test of will, but that there was truly nowhere to go.

To the North, behind them, awaited Sundance, and to the West lied Hestia, the opposite of where he wanted to go. The East was no better, which held the many threats of the Fire Country, as well as River Country, somewhere he ultimately decided against hiding in.

That only left the South, which led straight to the Sand Village, if the group continued the way they were. He had no intention of straying the path, not with a group so weak and a desert of bandits hidden behind every dune.

It didn't help that the way the group presented was rather...savage, to say it kindly. There were a handful of villages they had passed along the way, but each gate was promptly shut once they saw the screeching beasts that the scantily-clothed leader presented to the guards. Occasionally the argument of the children, hungry and dirty as they were, would be too much to handle, but when the subject of the little babe at Meisa's thinning breasts was addressed the gates were shut anyway.

Deidara hadn't left much intact in the manor, so the best he could be clothed in was a sash similar to his old one, plus an old scarf to keep his children from clawing at his shoulders and arms. The subject of hygiene was non-negotiable; they couldn't find a place to eat, much less take a hot bath.

The one positive in this slow starvation was the company he would starve to death with. Isamu and Yutori were as deft a maid as any, and far more pleased to be nothing more than a scullery rather than a whore. Even Kanako, as hardened as she was, spoke in a muted tone when she was around the girls. The old men and women - two men and three crones, to be exact - all called Deidara "Mater" more than the others, and went on about how exciting it was to see a deity in their lifetime. Meisa gently told Deidara to not dispute them, as their odds were the worst of the group to make it through the night.

But the children were a different breed entirely. Two of them were younger, a boy and a girl of seven, but a girl of thirteen with short black hair and a slender frame reminded him of Kurotsuchi. If not for the skin, he could have mistaken her for the little princess back North. It made it hard to look at her for too long, and it seemed to affect her whenever he tried to look away.

He wouldn't have to worry about hurting a girl's feelings for long if this kept up, however. Starvation loomed over the group, and if not the hunger, surely the heat would begin to pluck off the elderly and younger children soon.

Through the journey, Yutori had prompted him to name his six children. He knew their names before he knew they were alive, but he figured there was no point in sparing any details any longer.

"The little kitty here is Vulcan, but his face is a bit misshapen. I blame Sasori, it's his fault, really," he had explained.

"He's ugly!" the little boy had cried.

"Sanjuro." His mother, Isamu, suffered no misbehavior from her son. Just the utterance of his name kept him in line.

Deidara simply continued on, and pointed to the little black wolf that slept in a basket that the younger girl, Mio, carried to keep "her new puppy" safe at all times. It appeared that she had taken a bigger liking to the pup than he.

"Onyx, he's the little wolf. He bites, so I wouldn't go teasing him too much there, Mio." his words were a little too late, however. Her cries were brief, but she promised to train Onyx to not nip fingers and toes.

Nyoko had helped get the discussion back on track, as much as it pained him to look at her. "What about the pretty bird?" she had asked.

Yasuo and Takakaze, the old men whose combined age was over 200, chewed on nothing as the three crones listlessly watched their appointed deity speak.

"Oh, you mean Eros, right, hm? He's the most beautiful thing, isn't he? Look how white and fluffy his feathers are, he's almost all down~" Deidara happily sang sung his love of Eros and his fluffy coat with abandon, almost at all times he chose to keep him close to his side. Kanako had already forced Deidara to interact with the other five twice.

"I, ah, I meant the one with the blue..." she muttered. He could tell she felt embarrassed, so he decided to mercifully humor her.

"That one will be called Zephyr, he's quite pretty too, but all of my creations are a perfect work of art," Deidara had to force out the last bit a little, as Vulcan had once more gotten slobber all over his face and body.

It was then when magnificent white wings kicked up some dust at his parent's feet. Deidara picked up his biggest beast, proudly letting him display his wingspan of over a foot.

"This one will be Baelerion, from a story my mother used to tell me." They didn't need to know that they were all from that story, though.

As if on cue, the little red dragon once again challenged Baelerion with his less-impressive wings, scrawny and flecked with gold. Deidara grabbed him by his gangly neck and held him close, his body warm and scaly. "This last one is going to be called Red, because he's got a horrible temper."

And a temper he did have. The hunger and the stagnant, hot air angered none more than Red, aside from Deidara himself. It wasn't a foe he could burn away; he needed to find food for his people, and soon.

Even the winds seemed to mock him. Every time he had gazed out of a window in Sundance there was nothing beyond the horizon aside from sand being kicked up by powerful, unrelenting gales. Yet now it seemed that Wind Country was telling him he was not welcome here, and even the wind had turned its back on him.

By the first evening, the elderly already looked ready to fall over at any given moment. They chose to die where they lay, despite Deidara's constant protests for them to follow. It was the women first, then the men. Yasuo shut his eyes last, smiling up to Deidara when he asked him to revive the land once more. Per Meisa's request, he smiled back and told him that he would.

No one suggested eating the bodies, despite Deidara thinking of it. He never mentioned it, and simply buried the bodies where they died with the help of Kanako, who dug shallow ditches with her naginata. By dawn the remaining party had seldom rested for fear of bandits, rapers, or a certain redheaded murderer who may have tracked them. They were all visibly tired, and hungry. The group of now-eight weaklings continued to blindly follow Deidara through the desert despite the much-stated fact that he had no idea where he was headed.

Deidara kept the beasts in Mio's woven basket, and the seared head of Argento in a large rucksack that Nyoko tasked herself with carrying. Deidara took Baelerion out of his cage, pulling a single berry from a bush that Isamu had harvested on the way out of the meager rations. He held it to Baelerion, trying to coax him to eat. The little white dragon furiously shrieked and flapped his wings, no matter how many ways Deidara tried to feed him. He did look a tad bigger than last night, but he couldn't say for sure.

Meisa handed her babe to Yutori to go console Deidara. "M'lord, don't you know how to feed a dragon?"

Silly, sweet girl, there were never dragons until last night Deidara thought, but he only said, "No, no one ever showed me how. No one ever told me anything, that's why I can't find us safety...or food."

Truth be told, safety was of as great import as the food. When Deidara set the manse ablaze, he neglected to mind his clay or pack, leaving nothing to arm a group of slave women and children and their boy leader aside from a naginata and the interesting tale behind the dragon atop Deidara's shoulder.

If a group of bandits captures us, I could sell myself for my own ransom, maybe buy myself some time Deidara mused as he dredged himself through the hot sand, his bare feet burning with each step.

But why wait for a cruel death at the hands of Onoki? Why not try to woo the bandits to his side? As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he would sell the girls in a heartbeat if it meant he and his children survived. Sanjuro might live to wander another day as well, solely for the reason of being born a boy.

When the faded beige bricks popped up on the horizon, Deidara at first assumed he was hallucinating. But the cheers and praise from the group around him reaffirmed the town to be true, and as the party stepped foot onto the entrance of sandstone and decayed brick it was made clear that the city was the best thing one could hope for: dead.

There wasn't much left of the town, aside from the robustly-built brick buildings and the thicker cloths, tapestries and rugs. The truly special thing about the town was the garden in the center that bloomed in spite of the harsh desert, most likely due to the brick walls that surrounded the dead city. Peaches, figs, coconuts and mangoes lined the trees around the town. Plenty of pistachio and litchi nuts lined the gardens besides, and after a quick run through the town it seemed that the little group would have plenty to eat for months to come.

Isamu, the oldest one among them now, was tasked to make sure everyone ate no more than their share. Meisa and Yutori learned the well was still producing water from the spring, and immediately drew a bath for the group in the town's fountain. The children splashed about as they played tag, gleefully running about as the women rested in the water.

Deidara let his children out to wander, but Eros remained close to his parent. Unlike Red, Onyx, and Zephyr, Eros preferred to stay ruffled in Deidara's lap or under his hair. Baelerion crawled close enough to Deidara, but far enough to keep an eye on his surroundings. Vulcan hobbled along behind Deidara, grunting and gurgling all the while.

He wanted to bathe alone; as the oldest boy, he deemed it best to keep his distance from the others. He scooped up the slobbering Vulcan in his arms, letting him rest in his lap when he found a shady place to sit. Eros had fallen sound asleep in his nest of hair, but Baelerion remained focused on his parent. His eyes were blue, much like his own, but so much more calm.

"We could stay here, you know. All of us. One day you all will grow bigger, and we can hunt to find you food if we must. Then we can go back home, and take revenge on the Tsuchikage and his family." But until then, the fig in his mouth was more important. It was a little ripe and tart, but nothing had tasted better.

Baelerion cocked his head, emitting little clicking squeals from his snout as he listened to his parent talk to him. He didn't know if he understood him, nor did he care. This was the plan, and no amount of obstacles would change that. He had a safe place to live now, so he only needed to wait.

Once the handful of figs was devoured, Deidara wiped his juice stained face with a bare arm. It wasn't long after he climbed into the fountain to bathe that he remembered Argento's head that sat in the rucksack a few meters away. He cursed under his breath, angry that he had forgotten his ticket to the Ryo needed to support them in the excitement of finding shelter and food.

He allowed Meisa and Yutori to clean out his hair with a bone-toothed comb one of the children had found, while Isamu doused water over him here and there. Kanako scrubbed his back and legs clean, remarking that he had no body hair to speak of. Deidara reminded her that he was only fifteen, to which she reminded him that most fifteen-year-olds were shinobi that have been trained to assassinate men twice their size, and usually they had body hair as well as several kills under their belt. Deidara didn't know why body hair was so important to efficiently murder; he seemed to do it fine with his clay.

Zephyr was the first to fly, his white and periwinkle-blue wings carried him a good twenty feet before he gently let himself down. Deidara cooed his little flyer, stroking his fluffy head while he showboated his little wingspan. "You're my little flyer," Deidara said with a soft voice. "You'll own the skies one day, I'm sure."

"M'lord..." Kanako began. Meisa nudged her sister, but it had no effect.

Deidara glanced up at Kanako as she stood over him in his bath, while he draped over the side like a siren. "What is it, hm?" Yet he knew what it was from the rucksack gripped tightly in her hand.

"Our lives would be easier yet if we had money, which this head will provide. How are we supposed to bring it to a group of slavers that we do not know where to find? Surely you can think of a way?" Kanako was as unsure as he, though he didn't care to show it.

"I think we can survive on hunting and fruits for a little while, right, hm?" Deidara asked.

Meisa cleared her throat. "Maybe for a moon or two, yes. M'lord, if you wish to ensure survival, unfortunately we will need Ryo."

Deidara sighed. "I'd have taken us through every slaver's lair on the way if I knew where any of them were."

Baelerion screeched, crawling up on to Deidara's wet hair to perch proudly. Yutori finished her combing with haste, not wanting to provoke the territorial little beast. Kanako dropped the rucksack before Deidara, her stern gaze telling him all he needed to know. He was the only one who stood a chance with the slavers; they'd never listen to a woman.

He gave a solemn nod. Come the evening, Deidara found it nearly impossible to sleep. Curiosity tugged at the thick robe of seafoam green they had fashioned for him. While he rummaged through the rest of the dead town, he happened upon three different maps. The first two crumbled at his touch, but when he merely looked at the third rather than interact with it he found that several cities he had passed for sure were not even marked on it.

The more Deidara looked around the town the better he could picture what exactly had happened. Long ago, probably before he was born, a small town thrived here. Then something, he did not know what, managed to annihilate the entire town. Something that didn't want the food, clean water, or anything but the people. Decayed pots and dishes lined tables of broken clay and brick homes, and what appeared to be hearths were still covered in ash. The only certainty is that the dead city was not abandoned willingly, and even Baelerion kept quiet as his parent pondered what could have possibly caused an entire people to vanish.

The moon was quite lovely tonight, Deidara had taken note of. The desert was covered in a hue of deep blue and a sky filled with stars, but the moon had never looked brighter to the little mountain sprite. Even Baelerion couldn't focus on much else but the lunar marvel above them, and only when the other five of his children found their parent and a part of him to claim for a perch did Baelerion so much as peep.

Deidara looked at his children, hoping dearly that the world would stay this quiet for a little while longer. "We don't belong here, Baely. We're meant to fly and burn and create beautiful art. One day we'll go home, then we can be free." But only after those who mean to harm me are dead Deidara thought.

It must have been early April by now, with the warmer air and the murky heat there was no mistaking the coming of spring. Not even a year ago, he would look up at the moon every night and think of all the adventures to be had. Now that he had his fill of adventure, he gazed up at the moon and wondered why he ever thought that was a good idea. No amount of moping would do him any good, however. He needed to make sure he, his children, and his people were safe until he and his beasts were grown and primed to take their revenge.

He could feel Red's hot scaly body as the image of the Kage's manor razed to the ground popped into his mind. The pleasing mental image did small good though, he knew that if he wanted his dreams to manifest into reality, he needed to take the head to a slaver who would pay for it. He knew nothing of the land beyond his mountain valley and the woods that surrounded it, but a queer thought occurred as he gazed into a looking glass that was worn with tarnish.

With the idea fresh on his mind, he immediately sought to wake Meisa. He needed her to help him write a letter, or perhaps three.

-and-and-and-and-and-

Kurotsuchi hated this part of being the heir to the Earth Country in particular.

Despite her hesitation to call herself the heir to the entire country, she was told from a tender age that the truth was the Five Great Villages ruled the lands that surrounded them far more than the Daimyo or lesser lords did. Even still, from the look of it she would be the only girl when the next line of Kage was fully raised by their respective families. It made her every bit as nervous as it did excited for the challenge that it would surely lie ahead.

They said time and again that any one in the village who worked hard enough could become the next Tsuchikage, and for a while Kurotsuchi even believed this lie. When Akatsuchi asked to be passed over, the little coal princess questioned if she would be looked over for the seat because she was born a girl. She never forgot the words her grandfather told her.

"My gran'daughter, you'll never be looked over for bein' born a girl. Bein' born in this family is enough ta guarantee yer seat without question." Onoki had let out a belly laugh, and mussed her hair before urging her to get back to her favorite part of her training.

But the part she could not bring herself to love no matter how many ways she tried to rationalize it was the politics of it all. Who to treat with, who to reprimand, who is going to betray who, and worst of all who was to be assassinated. That may or may not have been because of Deidara being one of the targets, but the thing that bothered her the most with that particular case was how dishonest everyone became when it came down to finding a way to put a high bounty on his head.

She had never seen a room full of grown men vehemently express such delusional statements. Yes, she definitely remembered Deidara, a prodigy of the Explosion Corps, taken under her grandfather's wing as a disciple. Everyone loved him too, no doubt. Those menacing glares never happened, right? Yes, he destroyed the sacred scroll, not that his blood ruined it from the little stab wound they had conveniently forgotten to mention.

Interestingly enough, he had completed quite an impressive amount of S rank missions for a servant. Kurotsuchi began to grow ill once the adults in the room all agreed that this would be a convincing story to warrant enough Ryo to attract a decent team of mercenaries. After they all nodded in agreement, it was on to the next topic: harvests. A boy she'd come to care for meant less than a ripe squash to them. When she became Kage, she hoped that she'd be listened to enough to make sure such lies were never told again.

The coroner had gained favor with Onoki, quite more than anyone had anticipated. He could be seen whispering happenings in his ear or meandering about the halls while pretending he didn't hear what had been said by a passerby. Kuro kept as quiet as possible around the man, but only because she had seen the way he was able to get information about others. He was even responsible for the doctoring of a photo of Deidara to make him look the part of a Stone Village ninja, a task that required much gazing on his behalf.

Thankfully he didn't seem to have much of an interest in the little princess at all, which suited her just fine. She was free to explore, train and play with her brother and anyone that was highborn enough. She hated the highborn kids more than the stuffy adults though, they'd never risk their clothes being muddied like she would. Even after she told them she'd make sure their parents wouldn't whip them, they mostly just walked away without another word.

If it weren't for her brother, she'd like not have a single friend to play with at all, or to do anything really. She was a fool to get so attached to Deidara when he came to their home, with his deer-in-headlights stare that lingered for the first month, and the enthusiasm he had when she showed him almost anything that she could find. Everything was the coolest thing he'd ever seen, and he wasn't afraid to ruin his clothes when she dragged him outside to play. Unfortunately, when they saw him covered in mud from head to toe he was given the beating for both of them. After that Kurotsuchi insisted that he always look his best if any adults were snooping around.

She quietly listened as the adults moved through the topics for the moon's assembly. Winter was upon them, and the harvests were to be stored and held for those that could afford them. Kuro tried to drown out the whispers of murder and famine, but before her hands could reach her ears the coroner tapped her shoulder.

His thick spectacles fit his face poorly, with his lean frame and stringy hair that brought string beans to her mind. He gave a brief smile, then his face fell once more. Kuro knew better than to even mutter a word to this man.

"It wouldn't do for a princess to act so ill-bred in front of her future council," he said, as softly as a puff of air.

Kurotsuchi gritted her teeth, and forced herself to remain civil. "Don't you have something better to do?" It was not as kind as some would hope, but it was better than what she was thinking.

The string bean stood up, and all the men in the room turned to him. He bowed in a curt manner, then cleared his throat.

"My Lords, thank you for your time today. I feel it's best to start off with my team before evening. This will take some time, as you know."

"Where are you going?" Kuro blurted out. The room fell silent as everyone stared at her, and she felt herself sinking into her seat. The momentary tension was broken by the coroner clearing his throat once more.

"Why, off to secure the beast, of course. Your grandfather promised a hefty reward to whoever manages to lay his corpse before his feet," he said, his smile almost covering his entire face.

"Ya have everything ya need, sonny?" Onoki asked.

The string bean held a photo in his left hand, and glanced at it under his glasses. "Oh, yes," he sighed, "absolutely everything I need."

After the council dissipated, Kuro approached her grandfather to ask him what was really happening. He ignored any attempt to talk to him, however, and eventually she gave up and returned to her chambers.

It had been a month already, and Deidara hadn't been tracked down. She laid down on her down feather bed and thought to herself, as she often did when the weather was too dim to play outside. Her mind's eye flooded with visuals of the clever ways that Deidara was evading two countries' black ops at once, and grinned from ear to ear. This would make for a fantastic story to tell the next kids who came to play, and it would surely send both them and their brown-nosing parents reeling.

-and-and-and-and-and-

"Ten...twenty...thirty..."

The clink of each coin as it hit the stone pavement of the dead city filled the hearts of the small tribe with joy beyond compare. Food and water may have been in limited supply, but their brave Mater had collected a few smaller rewards for some odd jobs across the desert. Maybe a bandit or two fell victim to their little trap, but that wasn't as important.

"The southern people pay well for rubble," Kanako muttered.

It was hard to convince anyone that what he was doing was art, and he was earning Ryo by taking commissions from those who needed a masterpiece. The feeling of ecstasy and exhilaration that each building gave him as it crumbled before him was indescribable; he knew no one here would understand it.

"Sister, please be considerate. We've been blessed by the Mother herself when she sent us our new lord. Look, look back to the food and mead and summer drinks, and the meats and cheeses. We are in good hands now," Meisa chided her as Kanako continued to count the Ryo.

The food and wine weren't the only things that they had been given; fine silks, cloths and sashes now adorned the women and children of the dead city. Eight people were easy to keep fed and clothed, especially when the Ryo was constantly flowing in thanks to their little lord. Which was exactly what he had hoped for, as that meant his plan was starting to work.

"Five-hundred," Meisa said as the last coin fell with a resounding clink on the pale stone pavement. Yutori wiped her brow as she sighed in relief, while Isamu gathered the Ryo and placed them in a chest that housed many hundreds of their funds already.

"How many were there today, M'lord?" Nyoko asked, her once-tremulous voice now sound and strong with comfort and confidence in Deidara.

"How many" there were had become a common inquiry from his little group, and it never seemed to cease despite his explanation that he went into constantly, most of the time in full detail. It started with a small group of bandits a few nights after they arrived, Baelerion got between Deidara and a dagger, his fire melting both steel and skin. The Ryo gained was aptly used to buy more clay, and the raper who met an unfortunate fate with Zephyr and a little clay dove paid for a new pack.

There was a little mercantile hub a few miles to the West from the dead city, one far more meager than the bustling town that was Sundance, though Yutori swore up and down that even larger ones existed yet. Deidara pictured towering skyscrapers and enormous marketplaces that covered leagues upon leagues of the world, built finer and more opulent than even his mind's eye could imagine. But for now the little hub would suit him just as well, for he wasn't quite ready for the inevitable slaver to come upon their gates.

Only Meisa was meant to know of his primary source of income, however Kanako had intruded upon the duo in the middle of their plotting. Though she objected to the idea at first, she admitted that gaining notoriety would keep them more safe than remaining timid and in hiding. Five-hundred Ryo didn't come from a bandit, raper or brigand. It came from his art commissions; ones which clients paid handsomely to have Deidara detonate buildings of the individual's enemies, simple detonation to aid construction processes, or simply people themselves.

It didn't bother him as much if he never saw the person he killed - if he needed to kill one. Those were surprisingly rare, much to the relief of the sisters. If they wore a headband, it meant that they killed, or will kill. There was no getting around that, no matter how many times Meisa pleaded him to deny the job.

"But those are the ones that pay the best, sweet Meisa," Deidara said with an unsettling smile that betrayed no concern he may have harbored.

But as Meisa led her chosen lord to the fountain to bathe him, he called back to Nyoko with all of the effort of crushing a fly upon a wall.

"Three, sweet one. And many more to come."

He parted from the group before he could see Nyoko blush, or Isamu gather her son to plan out their dinner. Kanako followed the duo, ever-wary of Meisa and Deidara spending time alone together. He heard her almost every night, warning her sister of the influence he had on her. How was he so bad for them when he had saved them all from a life of servitude? Deidara considered selling her to the first slaver that came around, if only to rid himself of this nonsense.

The hot May sun warmed the water of the fountain he and his people used to bathe in. Meisa stripped Deidara of his turquoise garb while Kanako laid out the bone-toothed combs, soaps and oils used in all of their baths. He slouched against the edge as his maids worked at him, but he was no longer allowed to demand them to wash anything below his waist.

While Deidara scrubbed away at his left leg and Meisa combed out his hair with oils and fragrances, Vulcan came loping in from the left side of the town square. Eager as ever to see his parent, he splashed into the fountain and threw himself on top of Deidara. His clumsy little wretch of a child that loved him so dearly did not realize his own strength, and before he could force Vulcan to leave him be, Meisa cried out in shock.

"M'lord! Your arm, it's bleeding!" Meisa said as she hurriedly ripped a large chunk of her new shift to wrap his arm before it stained the pale bricks.

"Damn it!" Deidara said through gritted teeth. His child frustrated him to no end, and every day they all seemed larger than the last. There would come a day when Vulcan's loving embraces would crush his skeleton, and Red's little firey bursts would raze cities to the ground. At the rate they grew, he wouldn't have to wait much longer to take revenge on those who wronged him.

Vulcan purred and mewled next to Deidara as his misshapen paws prodded at his thigh. Deidara groaned, his patience was stretched quite thin already, and he didn't have much time to worry over this folly. No matter what he tried, how hard he forced himself to do it, he could not bring himself to love Vulcan as he loved the others.

It wasn't long until Baelerion sensed his parent's distress. His little defender swooped down to the top of the fountain, hissing and crying out to his brother. Vulcan seemed to understand, and backed away from Deidara with his head lowered, little whimpers emitted from his malformed maw every time his brother glared down at him with his glistening white wingspan on full display

"Good. Good Baely. He serves you far better than the others," Meisa said, her voice low enough that only Deidara could hear.

"What do you suggest I do about that, hm?" Deidara asked, looking up at her with a weary face. "I've tried everything to get him to be better, and nothing ever works. Nothing. I don't want to be stuck with him, Meisa. I only want my little Eros, my sweet Baely, not these other rejects."

Meisa glanced up at Kanako, who seemed preoccupied with something in the distance while she guarded her lord from above, perched on a tall building where Zephyr happened to currently roost.

In an even lower voice, Meisa said, "I understand where M'lord is coming from, it is a source of pain and humiliation to be saddled with such a burden, no? M'lord and I are both, ah, how did you say it once, 'on the same page', yes?"

Deidara slowly nodded, somewhat confused by his favorite maid's sudden secrecy.

"After your bath, please follow me out to the desert. Let us unload our burdens there. I swear I will not tell Kanako, I am your loyal servant, until my last breath," Meisa said in a voice even lower, and shakier and breathy than he had ever heard her. But her words gripped at his mind and teased out a final slow, silent nod.

The sun was setting by the time Meisa and Deidara were able to step away from the group as they ate their supper. Meisa held her babe in a bundle, while Deidara had Vulcan scantily wrapped in a similar fashion. His beast wouldn't stop squiggling about in his arms, so he had to walk with bowed legs to keep Vulcan from breaking free of his restraint. It certainly did not help this already-ridiculous struggle that this beast weighed at least a hundred pounds and slobbered at a near-constant rate.

It took a good hour of walking, but Meisa finally gestured to the canyon a few yards away from them. Her eyes did not leave his, as if to test him, to make sure he wasn't going to betray her. She should have known by now that I trust her and her alone, and we'll keep our secrets together Deidara thought as he lugged Vulcan toward the canyon. At this point, Vulcan had gone entirely silent; he sensed something was amiss.

"Go on," Meisa said, her voice as gentle as it had been when they first met in the catacombs. She nodded over to the edge of the canyon, and waited with her babe at arm's length.

Deidara heaved his beast once more as he inched himself over to the mouth of the canyon. Below he saw a rush of sand that flowed almost as water. None could survive falling into that, from the look of it. Not even Baelerion would be able to protect him if he fell in.

Meisa turned to Deidara. The two were dressed in identical white garb, complete with pearl and obsidian belts. She was a sister for him more than she was for Kanako; the way she guided him, her warm smile, her caring nature. She may be able to replace his brother. She may be able to replace Nendou.

He couldn't let this slip away from him again, so he let Vulcan slip instead.

Meisa's arms were empty when he turned to her once more. She seemed so naked without her babe at her breast, but so much younger. Her posture, her bright eyes and skin, everything about her seemed so much more alive than just a moment before. Now he could see her being but a year older than he was like she claimed.

"M'lord, we did it. We are free," Meisa said with a smile, her face no longer weary. Deidara couldn't help but give a half-smile back.

"Yes, sweet Meisa, we are free," Deidara said, trying to pay attention to her. His thoughts were elsewhere, though. His mind kept circling back to his other children, and if they would begin to upset him as Vulcan did. Would he simply toss them all from a cliff the moment they bothered him at a poor time? What frightened him was that he could not answer it for himself; he did not know if he could trust himself to be the parent his children needed.

The gentle clink of light steel sounded off in the distance. Not too far off, Deidara could make out Kanako walking towards the duo, her naginata strapped to her back in case of an attack. She took notice of her sister, then her slow walk became a full-on sprint. She stopped just before them, a bit out of breath.

"M'lord...I, ah, I saw a group of men. Red attire, shinobi. Not one I have seen. They are there by now, they..." Kanako said as she struggled to give her report as she caught her breath.

"What? What's happened, hm?" Deidara asked, worry weaved throughout his words.

"Please, we must run. They may find us too, and I fear the others are lost," Kanako said, her breathing stable once more.

"Not without my children. We'll flee once my children are secure, and not a second sooner," Deidara said, trying to command with a strong, hard voice.

"M'lord, listen to me for just a moment, if you will," Meisa said, interrupting what was forming into another heated argument.

"Make it quick," Deidara growled, his firey gaze focused on the town off in the distance.

"Remember our plans. If it is the Sand Village, you know to hide in the darkness. If it is the red-haired man, you know to fight with the skies. If it is the Stone Shinobi, you know to bring them the light."

Deidara nodded. He knew, he had prepared for this moment for a month. As a little clay bird fell from his hands and exploded in size before them, Deidara felt the winds blow at his back after hiding from him for some time. It seemed he had something's blessing now, whatever that was.

The three climbed the eagle, and it spread its proud clay wings before taking to the skies. With the aided haste of the galeforce wind behind them, an hour's walk became five minutes, if not less. The dead city was silent below them, and none of the other five of his people could be found - nor his children. He would have to descend to find anything in the city, much to his dismay.

Deidara let his clay creation land atop a building, and instructed Meisa and Kanako to lay low beneath it in case of a ranged attack. He climbed down a ladder on the side, and dashed about the main square through rummaged chests and baskets of food. He cursed under his breath at the sight of his precious hideout pillaged, but his children were of greater import.

Panicked, Deidara began to breathe sporadically. The mouth on his chest wiggled about as it hadn't for a month, not since he was kidnapped by Sasori. He could feel tears begin to well up in his eyes, and his lips curl in preparation to yell out for his beasts to come to him. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the clicking and chirping of his little defender - his little Baelerion.

He saw him; he saw them all. Packed safely in cages that were held by men in red shinobi garb, and crests of the Stone Village donned proudly on their foreheads. Ten in total, and one lean man dressed in traditional Wind Country robes with thick spectacles and stringy hair. He looked at Deidara, who was plainly in their sight. His children in the enemy's hands, his people vanished, likely killed. Meisa and Kanako could be saved, if he was quick. Or not, he did not truly know anymore.

The bespectacled man smiled warmly, and held his arms out. "Deidara!" he called out, though not even a few yards away Deidara could barely register that as a yell.

"What have you done with the others, hm?" Deidara asked, not in the mood to exchange pleasantries with monsters.

"They're dealt with, my dear. Come and gone, like many before them. We've been looking everywhere for you, sweet boy. Look at you, all dirty and tired. We can arrange for you to have a nice nap with your little friends, but first our beloved Tsuchikage would like a word with you."

"Release my children."

The gangly man let out a chuckle, and said, "Funny, we've been calling you a beast for so long, I can almost picture you giving birth to these beasts. Forgive me."

Yet the man chuckled on a bit longer, yet Deidara did not break his murderous gaze off of the shinobi that held his children.

"Release my children, or die."

The spectacled man cleared his throat. "I apologize if I haven't made myself clear, Deidara. You are under arrest for the murder of four Jonin, fine servants of our Tsuchikage. You are also under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder of the Tsuchikage and his family. If you do not come quietly, we'll have no choice but to harm these, err, children of your's."

Deidara looked around him, and saw Meisa and Kanako being dragged beside him by more Stone Shinobi, knives to their throats. He sighed, then stepped forward as he dropped his clay pack to the ground. He gave a glance to Meisa and Kanako, and they did the same. They all knew what to do: bring them the light.

"Old man Onoki wants to speak to me, is that right, hm? I don't want to keep someone who can keel over any minute waiting too much longer," Deidara said, his shoulders laxed to display resignation.

The men cuffed him well, he gave them that much. He was bound by iron mitts that sealed his hands, and chains that bound his arms; one behind his back and one across his belly. There would be no chance of escape with a group this large and deft, and anyone capable of finding him here could surely find him again. So he walked, bound in chains and irons with his children in cages as they screeched for their parent, and his maids in irons behind him.

Yet he savored the journey back home for his trial and inevitable execution. So very many trees lined the path "home", and so very many monsters lurked about in the most unusual places. These men had best be careful, as Deidara was a monster by their own account, and lately men had picked up a habit of spontaneously combusting. Oh, what a terrifying little thought.

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