Anita
"Uhhh Fire has some of the best Jutsus for range fighting... Fire Jutsus Can easily pierce though Armor Techniquie." *Atosh would explain as he rolled up his sleeve showing that he was recovering from a fire Jutsus that hit him a while ago.* "That and I'm sure you can find some creative ways to use it for movement." *Atosh offered advice to the Genin, Wondering if maybe he could ask some of his friends for Jutsus that Jinsei could use.*
Catherine
He rubs his chin curiously, thinking on the suggestion.
"I suppose. Well, this has been extremely helpful. Thank you for your time; senpai," Jin says, bowing before Atosh respectfully. He gives a little nod before beginning to walk off.

"I will be sure to take your advice to mind," He calls out, beginning to leave steadily.
Dorothy
```This is on the outskirts of the clan area```

Work, work, work... Usually, medical work, that kind of stuff, didn't have any issues in Chiho's mind, but now... Seeing the crying, sniffling civilians, the in shock shinobi not realizing their careers were over due to the injuries they'd taken... In such... In such *Excess*, every other hour dealing with some horrific injury that had either caused the end of someone's life, or the irreversible shift as they realized they'd have to learn to live without an arm, or a leg, or whatever was ailing them. It was too much, too much, far too fucking much for Chiho to deal with.

He'd spent the last four days handling this, back to back to back to back, hoping something else would happen, that he'd get some good news, some information... Nothing of the sort happened. Instead, the best he'd heard this entire week was that he'd be relieved of medical positions for the next 24 hours, after some shinobi realized he hadn't slept more than three hours each day in order to maximize the amount of time he spent healing and fixing others, taking a soldier pill the moment he safely could to push even further past his reserves... The more concerning aspect, was without a doubt, the liquor he'd been consuming during this time.

It kept his mind buzzing, kept the clarity of the situation from truly rushing in... If he kept drinking, he could focus on *Just* The task at hand without his buzzing mind looking at every ounce of information that was in his brain... That was the hope at least. Currently, he was laying against a pile of debris, a gourd being held aloft as he drained the contents of the bottle, he wasn't even sure what the flavor was, his tongue being so numb from the constant imbibing... But, anything was better than sobriety, really...