You're a genius dude, a work of art. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, not even yourself. Sure, you're sitting up in a treeline for no discernible reason in the middle of a forest with very cold weather not wearing any cold weather gear but HEY, you work out and those lats man, they look good.
He shivered as he stood on the branch of a tree scanning the horizon with his surveillance lenses. Nothing of interest apart from what appeared to be an old run down edifice of some sort, a brothel at some point? His mind always took him to the sexiest possibilities, or creepiest, depending on how attractive you found him.
It was at times like this he wondered why he never bothered to bulk up with more muscle, at the very least he'd probably be a bit warmer. Shinobi tactics were all about stealth, agility, and speed so it wasn't uncharacteristic for him to maintain an athletic form. I mean shoot, a sweater would've been better than a sleeveless skintight spandex shirt. If he did wear a sweater though, the muscles he had carved through years of intensive training would be obscured, which was a no go. After spending an inordinate amount of time discussing the merits of (with himself) staying warm and safe rather than dangerously cold for the sake of aesthetics he hopped off the branch to a tree closer to the building.
"Huh, well look at that. People! Well uh...people type things."
It was a tall order expecting to run into humans in this world, he could literally count on one hand the number of humans he had interacted with in the last year, and that was including himself. He had no reason to suspect those he had never even met had a reason for hostilities against him, or maybe he did? He pushed his goggles up over his head and looked at surroundings a bit more thoroughly.
"What to do, what to do..."
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