Nearing an oasis at the western end of the Wind Country's vast desert, the sand cloud that was held together by Shukaku's essence started to slow. It then began to collect itself and condense near the edge of the still water. First a set of human feet and legs started to form, then legs, and a torso, all the way up until a robed, male form stood at the edge of the oasis. He looked around, taking in his familiar surroundings. To his right were large fallen sandstone pillar, reaching out of the dunes as a reminder of what once was. To his left, the desert expanded out, the sand rippling, swelling, and crashing into itself as if it were golden water. Surrounding him were clusters of cacti, large and small, acting as natural sentinels to this once sacred ground. And, just ahead, the sun was finishing its decent behind the ruins of a temple, the barely intact torii framing a pile of rubble, its once vibrant colors bleached by the sun and etched away by the sands.
Shukaku's current form resembled the Kazekage's greatly, with dark-rimmed sea-foam eyes and spiked red hair. He was also of the same height, the same lean build, and even the robes were similar to those sported by the kazekage. In fact, it was almost to a t, if not for the iconic scar being missing from his forehead. Instead, on his palms were the kanji for the words "acceptance" and "heart." In his right hand, he held the neck of a biwa.
"Heh," Shukaku started, seeming to speak to the ruins before him, "its been a while, Bunpuku. Its been about a year, actually. So, I decided to come visit." As he spoke, he lowered himself to a seated position, crossing his legs, and resting the instrument on his lap. "You know," he continued as he began to tune the biwa, "this year's song took me a little longer than usual to write. But, I think you'd like it if you were here to hear it." Then, as he finished tuning, he quieted and stilled, letting the natural ambiance of the desert fill the air. After a few more moments of letting the winds sing, he held the neck of the biwa in his left hand, the plectra to strum with in his right, and began play the opening chords of his song. It was a slow, minor progression, raising in major steps, and sprinkled with tritones. Without words, his song told a story of separation and sadness, of loss and death. Its melancholy beauty filled the desert and was carried on the wind.
By the time Shukaku finished his song, the sky that was once drenched in twilight was painted with the pinks and golds of dawn. He rested the instrument on the ground at his side and began to lean back, taking in the way the light of the rising sun skipped on the water's surface and danced on the surrounding ruins. "This place is beautiful," he said, his voice quiet and deep, "its a pity you never got to see it." He sat there a few moments more before raising to his feet. "Well, same time, next year, I guess." He then turned towards the east, the sunlight burning into his now sensitive, human eyes, forcing him to squint. By the time they adjusted, however, he had already started to let his human shell, forming back into the sand cloud the had brought him to this spot in the first place. "the brat will probably be looking for me soon, now that he knows that I'm able to roam about." Before the shell was completely gone, a smile played on his lips as he said, "oh, and by the way, you were right about the kid."