Beautiful Moon

He crept quietly across the floor, keeping himself low to the ground so as not to make a sound. Slowly he approached the large standing basket, ears perked, listening for the slightest noise. Tiny puffs of breath were all that greeted his senses.

Scanning the room once more, he peered over the edge. Inside was a tiny mound of cloth, its center rising and falling gently with each whispered breath. A shock of pitch colored-hair, still wet from her first bath, lay on the soft sheets. Pale, soft skin gleamed in the moonlight coming through the window.

He was entranced, reaching out a talon-tipped finger to stroke her cheek. She cooed in her sleep, turning instinctively into the gentle caress. He could not help himself and gently cupped her tiny cheek. His heart leapt into his throat as the gesture made her stir, but by some great mercy she did not wake.

He carefully withdrew his hand as he stepped away, and realized it was shaking. He brought it to eye level, watching as his digits trembled in time with the butterflies fluttering in his gut. It was amazing. He had faced down monsters of all kinds, hunted a psychotic hanyou across the country, and fought for all he had with fangs and claws and blood. Yet, he was brought to his knees by this one sleeping babe.

Stepping back to the basket, he gently scooped the child into strong arms, arms so much more used to killing than comforting. Still, she slept on, cuddling into his chest without fear and sending the butterflies into a tizzy. His heart hurt and his hand shook harder, forcing him to return her to the basket lest he drop her.

Carefully, he leaned over and sniffed her, taking in her scent so he would never forget, no matter how many more centuries he lived. He noted, with a little chagrin, she smelled a bit like her mother.

Then she woke. Bright blues eyes blinked sleepily at him and he froze. His heart hammered in his throat, waiting for the judgment of this tiny creature. It seemed they stared at each other for a century or more, in the silence of that room, their noses mere inches apart.

She giggled, a soft, delighted sound like nothing he had ever heard before, and tiny hands came up to touch his face. He closed his eyes, letting her touch him. Every childish caress left his skin tingling with something no words could describe.

A new noise filtered into the room, just as soft as the baby's coos, and with the same primal intent. But there was no warmth in the sound, just thirst and fury. "Wolf..." The word vibrated between bared fangs. He straightened, turning his head just enough to see the moonlight gleaming from the other's hair and the golden fire that snapped in his eyes.

"Dog..." he rumbled back, but did not fully turn to face the other. Only one would walk away this time, and they both knew it.

"Get away from her," the other snarled. It was not a brash shout, but a calm, collected statement. He did not move, keeping one eye on the other, as he let the baby grab his finger and begin to suck on it. Though the threat was very real, he doubted the dog would start a fight while he had the baby within easy reach.

"What is her name?" he asked, his own tone even and cool.

"...Mizuki..." the other answered carefully. "What do you want?"

"To see if the rumors are true," he answered in the same cool tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the golden flame reignite and narrow.

"What of it?"

Gently he removed his finger from the child's grasp and turned to face the other with a careless half shrug and a flex of his hand. "Why do you think?"

"You bastard! Get away from her!" the other snarled, flexing his own claws as he advanced carefully across the room. The baby started to cry.

He glanced over his shoulder at the child. "Don't be stupid. If I was going to hurt her, I would have done it already." He took several steps away from the basket. The other darted past him to scoop the baby into his arms, fangs still bared and eyes still watching him warily. "She is beautiful," he added softly. "Just like her mother. Take good care of them."

Then, in a rush of wind, he vanished into the night.