Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. Duh. :/
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In the few days of his lonely travels, the boy never felt so much fear in such rapid successions. It was fear that drove his legs to carry him as fast and inhumanly possible, dropping on all four to try and gain more speed. Fear that forced him to look around, take in everything with a heightened sense of alertness. Terror that made his blood run cold and boil hot.
The shouts were getting louder, he was beginning to slow.
The lack of food for the past couple of days finally began to have an effect. Demons could last much longer without food, but the same can't be said for a demon child.
Emerald eyes snapped back to look over his shoulder; they were far, they did not match his speed. He did not match their endurance, not in his weakened state, and they were gaining.
Who knew a simple apple would cause so much trouble... so much life threatening trouble, anyway. The village so close to the forest he pelted through, it was the first he's seen in a while, the first chance to get himself sustinance.
Needless to say, it didn't go well for him.
"Come back here, little vermin!" Chanted the farmers, hell-bent on killing the child. The larger demons that plagued them were just that: too large, and in turn, too powerful. Their satisfaction for revenge will have to do with a mere kitsune pup. The sheer bloodlust almost radiated through the air, he could almost taste it in their scent, and it forced more adrenaline into his pounding heart.
With all the energy his little body possessed, he weaved through the trees, intent on confusing and slowing down his pursuers.
It works for the most part; they weren't agile like him, and struggled to dodge the thick trunks. They were delayed, and he could slow his running, regain his wind.
The poor kit was panting in quick, heavy breaths. His tongue lulled out of the side of his mouth in a true canine like fashion, and he continued his desperate trot deeper into the forest.
With apprehension, the boy looked over his shoulder again, past his drooped tail, searching for any signs of the farmers. He could hear them, smell them, but he could not see them.
That's... that's good, I think.
With a quiet, raspy sigh, he ducked behind the trunk of a large tree, fully intent on settling against the rough bark. He didn't even have the leisure; no sooner he began to slow into a walk, the shouts became louder, thirstier, closer.
"THERE!"
The accusing snarl was so close it made the fur of his tail stand on end. The kit balked; there's no way a human could have found him that quickly. Suspicions aside, he couldn't stand there to ponder about it; that knife landed a little too close for his liking.
Exghaustion ignored, he bolted, muscles aching with the unfamiliarty of so much running. The farmers, they were getting closer once more. He could almost taste it again, their scent; disgustingly bitter with sweat, hatred, blood.
Light broke through the thickets of leaves, and his heart sank. An opening meant no more trees, no more natural protection, obsticles to use; the trees were the only reason he survived this long. Sure enough, he found himself bounding across an open field, bursting through the bodies of trunks and leaves.
A glance over his shoulder told him everything. They were close, terrifyingly so, and they could finally see him completely. A wail almost burst through his throat. They were gaining on him now. He turned then, intent on finding something, anything that could possibly prolonge his life―
With an oof, he fell back abruptly, whatever wind he had left in his lungs knocked out at the impact. Eyes snapped open to widen in fear, and he looked up at the person. A woman?
He caught sight of her hair first. It was inky midnight blue, almost black, hanging freely around her shoulders. The raven mane, thick with silk-like strands, stuck close to the mid section of her waist.
She wore a hakama, dark blue―it adorned her hips lowly, held firm by a belt, her torso covered in nothing but a white undershirt. It was stained, pink blotches close to the waist, almost as if it were once a darker color. Its scent still fresh, reeking of copper and honey.
Blood.
The boy gasped, looking up fully, and for the first time his eyes met with hers. Crystal green clashed with soul-piercing irises, the stormy grey swirling wildly around slitted pupils. His heart pounded under the intense stare, missing completely the rise of arched eyebrows.
A movement was made, and he looked away from her face, down to her scarred arm. A hand came to rest on the hilt of a sheathed sword. He squeeked; how the hell did he miss that?
I'm going to die.
"There he is!"
The shout broke him from his stupor, but did nothing to quell the growing fright in his chest, constricting his lungs. He stared at the woman, the gaining mob, then back, before making up his mind. Throwing whatever little pride he had left away, he jumped to her legs, submerging his waist in the chilly water she stood in. Grasping the leg of her hakama with all the strength his tiny hands could muster, the boy buried his face into the cloth, against her shin.
The woman looked down. He didn't return the gaze, hiding his tears, muffling his sniffles. The shouts got louder, cursing the woman. Footsteps grew hurried, hungry. All he could do is whisper desperately.
"Make it quick..."
Time seemed to slow. He waited, and she stared at the mess of red hair pressed against her leg. The men were there, waving their weapons recklessly. They were more than ready to take down the woman, just for the blood of the boy. She unsheathed her sword― it made a strange sliding noise resembling metel grinding steel; it made the kit flinch.
The blade raised up. Wind whistled in protest as it flashed back down.
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TBC... Maybe. O:
As I've said before, just a little idea I had that I wanted to try out (really short, too, apparently. o.o). I dunno if it was good, bad, alright, a "meh", but hey, it never hurts to experiement I suppose. C: I didn't mention their names on purpose; I want you to try and figure out who the boy and samurai are. I think it's pretty obvious, but whatever. .
And, that little thing about the blood smelling like "copper and honey", I'd assume demons, being attracted to blood, think it smells somewhat sweet. Not necessarily good, but sweet, sometimes sickeningly so.
Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you let me know what you think, please. :3