Thirty seconds until Jorogumo would start her journey towards the Akatsuki threat. She'd informed the Kazekage of her intentions, and, unless she was prevented, she'd be gone with the bygone moon. The wind was heavy in the country but her black-kimono seemed to deny its properties, stoic, pendant, motionless. What was coming for her in the days beyond this sunsetting sky; passed the dunes that shadowed the hills; passed the black chasm gate that carved deep into village wall; beyond the curse soul that prevented her from doing selfless acts. This was for her, and so, as forty seconds passed. She left, exiting the village all together. If the supposed honourable Ryo trailed her, she wouldn't stop him.
Subject: Re: قصة حياة الشهيدة كريستينا 
