A smoky room, glittering lights cascade across the polished surface of the room. There is laughter and smiles and dresses flying like the brightly colored wings of birds. The ball is in full swing now, it seems and there is but alone girl sitting at a window staring blankly out of it. Her blue eyes glitter and flash and sure, she looks happy but on the inside, she is not. She longs for something more, (smile like you mean it) as she stares, it begins to snow, big fat flakes and instantly the ground became something foreign and beautiful; white and alluring. As she stared something moved out of the corner of her eye and she stood from her seat quite suddenly, her hand going to her necklace, a lion. The only thing she could see of the figure were its eyes, glittering and golden like that of some great cat. Her lips turned up at the corners.

His white, almost sliver hair glittered in the pale moonlight, what was he doing here? He was not one to chase after mortals, still something about this one, the way she had stared unafraid as he quickly and without mercy dispatched her compassions, made him stop

Are you going to kill me?

Yes...

There was a smile on her face and that made him stop. In the moonlight, her brown hair seemed almost ashen, he was in her face so fast she didn't have to gasp and she didn't no emotion played across her face as she started up at him. She couldn't be much older then eighteen, nineteen at the most. For one so full of life, there was nothing but sadness and bitterness there, she had the eyes of someone who had seen and been through too much in a short amount of time. He leaned in close to her, the nauseating stench of despair and sorrow clung to her like a perfume. It was only then did he notice that she wasn't afraid of him

Don't you know what I am?

Yes.

Just a simple word and yet it held so much meaning. He took almost no joy in killing mortals anymore, and with his one good arm he really had no use for them. Their flesh melted off his body almost instantly now, unconsciously, he looked at the pinned up sleeve of his jacket with disgust and hatred. His real arm of course had been gone for at least six and half centuries. That was fine, he had grown used to not having it, he cursed his lack of dexterity now though.

His eyes went back to hers and he found the fingers of her left hand circled around a necklace of a lion it seemed almost a habit, like the way someone might twirl a strand of hair around their finger when they get nervous. Still no emotion in those silverly blue pools. Suddenly, she grabbed his shoulder right where the start of his forearm should have been and she closed her eyes, the air began to shimmer around them, and brilliant beams of silver light began to shoot out. The wind began to pick up and he could feel a pleasant warmth building. He looked down and saw that his arm had been completely revived. She was still emotionless. He was not.

He opened his mouth to say something but she collapsed against the door of the car. What was she? She had tremendous power and for some reason he couldn't fathom, this girl, this mortal girl had regrown his arm. He flexed his fingers, it was like it was never gone in the first place.

He opened the door and put her in the passenger side lingering outside her door, deciding what to do with her. It was obvious by the way that she was dressed she was off to some sort of winter ball, in fact he was pretty sure that he had seen an envelope sticking out of the suit pocket of one of her punk friends. He got the feeling from this one that she loved going to things like this, she was wearing an authentic corset and her dress was one you would only find in the eighteenth century in London maybe. Her hair, the one long lock of it, was the only thing that was modern about it. He shook his head, he was getting off track he didn't have much time left, so he decided that he would take her to the ball.

$

When she came out into the snow, he saw she had no shoes on and that brought a little bit of a smile to his lips. She, he noted, was also wearing the traces of a genuine smile. She stopped suddenly unsure of what to do with herself so he took the chance to get close to her, that stench of sorrow was on her still but now there was a twinge of what could be called hope. '

Now that she could a really good look at his aristocratic face, she could see that he wasn't he appeared to be, yes she had regrown his arm but only out of sympathy and because in him, she had sensed the same loneliness, the same sorrow and despair that surrounded her constantly. She started up at him, her hand automatically going around her necklace. It was all she had left of someone she had once held very dear to her heart now that he was gone from her. Not in the mortal sense, he had gone back to his wife and all that she knew shattered around her like bubble made from glass. No, she wasn't going to let herself get caught in another situation like that.

"Who are you child?" his voice, deep and smooth like velvet slid over her skin. His golden eyes held no emotion in them, just a question,

"Lyndsay" she answered him

"Though I am a nobleman by birth, you may call me Sesshomaru" he said bowing at the waist and grasping her hand.