Better Than A Puppy
She'd always wanted a puppy, ever since she was a little girl she would always drag her mother into the pet shop and beg for one of the adorable little creatures. And now, finally, she had one. Well, in a way.
She reached out and rubbed a soft, silver ear between her thumb and forefinger, the boy lying across her outstretched legs began to emanate a low, contented purr. She giggled, then clasped a hand over her treacherous mouth, but the damage was done.
He lifted his head, hurt plain in his amber eyes as he glared at her. "Oh, Inuyasha, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He turned away from her, and settled cross-legged on the grass with his back to the young priestess.
She crawled over to him, then sat on her knees behind him, perfectly still and silent for a while, before beginning to run her fingers through the long, silver hair that glimmered in the scattered sunlight filtering through the trees.
Eventually he began to purr again, quietly at first, but soon it increased to its former volume. She took this as her cue to resume her earlier ministrations on the triangular appendages perched atop his silver head.
This time she did not laugh, but savoured every moment that low, rich sound reverberated from his throat. He was much better than a puppy.