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Sesshoumaru grows restless in the autumn. He’s not sure what it is about the season that pulls at him. Perhaps the anticipation and retaliation to winter growing nearer is what incites an urgent yearning to run out into the wild. When he inhales the morning air on his engawa and detects that tell-tale crisp autumn coolness, it is a shock to his system. The maw of yearning gapes open, catching him in its teeth. The walls around him become a cage and on pure instinct, he leaves.
It’s early October now. The trees are still mostly green but he’s starting to see a bit of colour popping up here and there. The day is sunny but up in the mountains the air is already cool and he breathes it in deep, eyes closed. The scent of prey tickles his nose and Sesshoumaru flexes his wrist as he opens his eyes. He slinks close to the ground and follows the track, careful to stay upwind. He walks through the mountain forest on silent feet and soon sees his quarry.
A lone serow is enjoying its afternoon meal, its bushy grey-brown fur spotted in the sun. Slow and sure, Sesshoumaru stalks closer to the goat-antelope until he’s within 20 feet of the oblivious animal. He stops, shielded from sight by a tree and plants his feet to the ground. He positions himself on instinct for that explosive sprint that’s soon to follow. He can already feel the serow’s flesh yield to his claws, smell the blood in the air.
The animal’s head snaps up. It takes one skittish step and Sesshoumaru shifts his weight, ready to move. There’s a rush in the air, a dull thwack. The scent of blood hits Sesshoumaru’s nostrils and his eyes narrow on the arrow embedded into the animal’s side. The serow lets out a snort and takes two running steps. Then Sesshoumaru is there, his hands around the animal’s neck. One quick twist and the stocky creature flops to the ground.
Sesshoumaru yanks out the arrow and holds it delicately in his claws as he studies it. Rushing footsteps approach him somewhere to his right but he ignores them for now. No longer focused on the animal he was tracking, his logic wars with what his senses are screaming at him. It is not fathomable. He should not recognise the arrow. The scent in the air should not be familiar to him.
She should not be here, over 60 ri away from her home village.
But almost as soon as the thought crosses his mind, the footsteps halt.
"Sesshoumaru!”
He turns his head and finds her standing there beside him, her blue eyes warm and her smile bright. She is dressed as a priestess, her bow slung over her shoulder.
“I didn’t expect to see you here! Thanks for your help!”
He should probably say something in response. Question what she is doing up here in the mountains and why she appears to be on her own. But words are failing him. The miko has turned her back to him and has focused on the serow on the ground.
She rolls it to its back and then there’s a knife in her hand. Sesshoumaru blinks as she makes the first deft cut through the thick fur up the sternum, parting the hide. She flips the knife and then cuts down, through the flesh, until she comes to the stomach.
She glances over her shoulder at him. “Do you want any of the organs?”
“I… what?”
Even though he’s staring at her every movement, Sesshoumaru is having a hard time making sense of what he’s seeing.
“Ok, I’ll just be careful when I scoop it all out,” the miko murmurs to herself. Then, she’s actually humming as she’s splitting the animal apart.
He tilts his head, oddly fascinated by the sight of the priestess field dressing the serow carcass.
Several minutes later she is straightening up and grinning at him, her hands bloody after scooping out the animal’s innards. It is a side of the miko Sesshoumaru’s never seen before and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t seem able to look away.
“I saved you the heart and the liver, if you want them,” she says.
“Thank you,” Sesshoumaru replies, inclining his head. He should not read too much into the significance of the miko sharing her kill with him. He’s fairly certain she is simply being her friendly human self. But a traitorous part of him at the back of his mind has already latched onto the possibility; considering its merits.
“My camp’s not too far away,” the miko tells him as she cleans her knife. “Would you mind giving me a hand with this guy?”
Sesshoumaru picks up the animal and sets out after the miko. She flashes him a quick smile of thanks over her shoulder but even after she faces away from him, his gaze lingers. It touches her bow. It’s caught by the dark hair spilling down her back. It travels down to rest in the sway of her hips as she briskly walks up the mountain path.
A resolve swells from deep within as Sesshoumaru follows after Kagome. He flexes the wrist of his free hand. Hones in on her scent. Moves with quiet deliberation, all his senses focused on a single point.
He has a new quarry in his sights.