Blackfeather Woods Lightning

he stalks the woods. he waits for those loyal to him to arrive, wishing for news of a hunt. none arrive; there is nothing but the endless waiting, and his patience wears thin.

the carcass where shinjou found him—too rotten now to be picked over further—goes ignored while his hunger grows once more. his hunger, like the rage that has fueled him all these years, thrusts in to the forefront of his mind.

it is not a good mindset for a warrior to be in.it is distracting. he cannot focus; every minor scent within the leaf-litter of the darkwood, from field mouse to fox, raven feather to rabbit, steals away his attention.

then, there is the scent of a woman. it is stronger along the meadow's edge and unfamiliar to him—and as kikyo spots her, he sighs—and it comes out a rumble of frustration that is hardly subtle.