Konzen had been waiting for a strong warrior that his scouts had reported to be in the area, and now he had just presented himself to him. Gazing upon him with quiet, cold, eyes Konzen took in a deep breath. Exhaling silently he moved through the trees towards the clearing, stopping just out of earshot. Taking out his flute, Konzen dropped to the ground, his long black cloak fluttering around him as he floated to the ground, making as much noise as a leaf that had fallen from a tree. His hood concealed all but his eyes as he raised the wooden instrument to his lips and stood up, gazing into the distance at the figure sitting there. He began to play an old tune, taught to him by his mother as he walked forward slowly, the music dancing from the end of the flute to the branches of the trees, around them and off of the bright green leaves. Through the shafts of golden sunlight that littered the muddy floor that slowly became more and more charred. Soon, the forrest around him died quickly, and the music took on a more sombre tone and pace, the golden sunlught no longer danced with the music, but watched on in reserved silence as it weaved its way slowly towards the ears of the warrior.
All the while, Konzen never took his eyes off of the enemy.