The Crimson Tide

The lapping water playfully eddied and flowed among the rocks and sandbars of the island. Although this is a tropical island, the weather is unusually tame. Gray clouds strangle the moon in a dead wind, and the only sound is the interminable whispers of the sea and beach. It's in this moment of dreadful peace, that a lone tsurikago fords the ascending tide and brushes against the land of waves. With a gasp of simultaneous joy and discomfort, Kurenai hurriedly disembarks. Her silhouette revealed a lusciously curvaceous body, which the darkness only accentuated by leaving much to the imagination, and her crimson eyes glinted in the moonlight. If she had any lunch left to lose, she'd likely be doubled over and heaving. She hated transportation by boat, which is unusual for a ninja of Kirigakure, but the late-night transit had been an unfortunate necessity. With a sidelong glance over her shoulder, she speaks, "Well, hurry up already. Those bags won't carry themselves."