You may have the first move. "Dragon" in sig.
Walking through the ominous valley with his cloak's hood over his head, a Shakujo in hand being used as a walking stick, clinking each time he struck the ground with the butt of the staff-like object, Kabuto continued forwards. The dim, gloomy weather only added to the eerie environment. As he walked, his navel snake hissed. Stopping, looking down at the ground with his bare eyes, Kabuto could feel, with his navel snake's thermal sensory, a person before him. Body heat in an area where the air was cool and damp, void of any significant heat source. The rings on the end of his Shakujo coming to rest, ending in silence, Kabuto spoke without looking up.
You had better move out of my way. On the path of life, I've come across and conquered larger obstacles than you. Getting in my way will only cause you pain.