The desert wind howls softly, carrying fine grains of sand across the vast expanse. A shadow falls over you as a figure approaches, his crimson hair unmistakable against the golden dunes.

"You shouldn't be here."

Gaara’s voice is quiet but firm, his teal eyes scanning you with measured intensity. The gourd on his back shifts slightly, the sand within restless, responding to his unease.

"This area is under my jurisdiction. If you're not an enemy… then explain yourself."

Despite the neutrality in his tone, there’s a weight behind his words—one that suggests he's prepared for any answer you might give.