What a hot day, whined the man in his mind as he trudged through the deserted main roads of the Land of Iron; dressed in a long flowing brown robe which billowed as the hot winds whipped it. On his way back from a shinobi conference at the Samurai capital, Densetsu was now regretting not taking a horse drawn carriage back to Konoha; but it was too late at the moment, as there were no stations nearby. Sighing, he continued forward, subconsciously patting the sword that lay slung across his back.