Well met, dear reader.

I received some comments on my portrayal of Sesshoumaru in the last chapter (along with a few over my threat to post irregularly). It is an unusual role for The Killing Perfection to be interpretted as anything but alpha, dominant and in charge. I know, I used that take on his character in the past myself. The thing is, what is an Alpha without a pack? Dogs are social animals, almost all canines are. There's hierarchy and jostling for position in any pack.

Anyone that's watched the Dog Whisperer on TV knows that often as not a dog will think itself alpha over it's human owner just as easily as one person will believe themselves better than another. So there is a similar stucture in humanity as well. Why not then, also in youkai?

So why is Sesshoumaru not the alpha? Most people believe that Takahashi portrayed sesshoumaru as obviously dominant, but she really didn't establish his character beyond being aristocratic (and wimps, leaders, nobles, and scalawags can all be aristocrats, that's a fault of birth not temperament), aloof and stoic. So he doesn't talk much, doesn't take intimacy lightly, and has a title. That's it. He is not deliberately cruel and has little respect for Hanyou, humans, and Inuyasha specifically. And yet, he also insures that Jaken and Rin are safe, A youkai he despises and a human of little use (love her though I do, Rin really serves no purpose besides to pick on Jaken and get into trouble). This could be instinct or training, but even the lowest, weakest members in a pack will take care of each other, alpha or not.

So I made him not.

This does not make him weak. He is Beta, not weak, not particularly submissive, and not ridiculously biddable. I explained that part already if you were paying attention.

He doesn't follow just anyone, he makes that choice consciously and seriously. He doesn't follow unquestioningly. That's not his job. His job is to see that his alpha doesn't give too much of herself to the pack. Part of the reason he took Akemi taking off so hard is because she porbably wouldn't have reached such a state had he been with her before hand. Akemi gave a lot of herself to protect the other females suffering in her school. had her beta been with her, he would have gotten her out and most the other girls as well, years before it went to such a critical stage. Akemi would not have left without them and he would have known that.

A beta is probably the most difficult position to fill because an Alpha is willful and driven to help out the pack, to protect them and care for them. A beta needs a certain amount of stubbornness, strategy, and a bit of cunning to get around the alpha without going head to head against them.

Head to head with an alpha is a fools game for others alphas. A beta only cares about the Alpha he chooses to follow.

Woo, I wax on elquently don't I? I think that's more than enough for now. Sesshoumaru is not necessarily out of character though the interpretation might seem highly original. I like him this way. It makes him solid as a character. But then, everyone is entitled to his/her oppinion.

Luckily, most the oppinions so far coincide with mine.

In the Woods

The crisp smell of the coming frost wafted trough trees browned with dormancy. The moving air stirred fallen leaves from the previous fall, sending them dancing into the open area free of brush and cover. A common misconception was that such a scene was accompanied by silence, but it simply wasn't true.

There was the sound of small furry bodies scurrying under the brush in search of whatever last morsels of food could be found. The air held the soft hooting of slumbering owls and the flap of winter wings. Deep in the earth gentle snores could be heard from animals wise enough to hibernate through the colder, barren time of year.

She had paused to take it all in; the sound of the creaking branches, the scent of frost and mouldering leaves. She loved this forest, her forest. At least it was hers in as much as a forest could belong to anyone. She knew the sounds of its seasons, the sight of its life, the rhythm of its movement and it soothed her.

Her hunting as of late was proving a great deal less fruitful than she preferred. The two squirrels dangling by their tails at her side were more fuzz than meat and hardly worth the trouble of catching, skinning, and eating, but this late in the season; they were likely the best she was going to do. It was for times like this that she stored food from the summer season. Tough and dry, her stores would still finish out her meal nicely.

She sighed, this would likely be her last excursion from her den for the season. It was unwise to go out at the end of winter/beginning of spring. Males in the wilds tend to hunt female flesh more than food this time of year and she had no desire to be caught outside her den by such a hunter.

Even when her fertile period was upon her, she did not desire their touch to ease the ache. Feral males were not gentle. Few females survived the touch of a feral male with the possibility of procreation on his mind. She had lived this long because luck had kept her safe, and planning had kept her in when the males hunted for fertile females. She had no desire to stop it now.

She paused as a scent passed her nose. She recognized it instantly as she would any scent so constantly found within the trees. This one came from an unusual source.

On the edge of this densely forested track was an artificial clearing filled with new trees. There was a spot stained with blood in which nothing grew and no wood creature would go near it. The source of this sudden scent sat on the other side of the clearing.

It was a non-feral male that never seemed to move.

Occasionally other non-ferals would come to visit him, but they never stayed long and he didn't seem to acknowledge them. He merely stared into the trees, clearly watching for something, waiting for something.

Most days she hardly bothered to notice his presence at all, it was so constant it seemed almost as much a part of the forest as the trees. Some days, she thought he waited for someone. Other days, when she was holed up in her den and at leisure to think of such things, she imagined he attempted to skip death and fertilizer to simply become a tree by his stillness.

Today was different. His scent was off.

She approached him slowly, covertly. There was no need to reveal herself until she properly assessed what her nose was telling her. She moved in from the side to study him. It wasn't the first time she had seen him this close, but from what she could see, it might as well have been.

He looked nothing like he used to. His long silver hair no long shone in the sun. It hung dull and limp. The garments he wore hung off him as though bits of his body underneath them had gone missing. He was starving, she realized, though she could not figure out why. There was food beside him, offerings from his visitors, slowly beginning to spoil.

Something was wrong with him and it wasn't just the sickness she'd caught on the wind. Gut instinct told her he was never supposed to be like this and she was moving out of cover before she'd even thought to do it.

For the first time since she'd been aware of his presence in the forest his eyes shifted from their steady gaze to look at her. His eyes bore into hers as she stared back. Experience had taught her to never look away from anything that made her nervous. Odd behavior like his failed to be anything but unnerving. Still her instinct drove her closer and he watched her take every step.

She forced herself to stop while she was still just outside his reach. Whatever was wrong with him, he was still male and males were dangerous. Besides, she'd never liked this clearing. It tugged on memories from before her coming to the wilds, memories she felt were best left lost to her now. Sort of forgotten, but not.

On impulse she laid the two squirrels down before him. Rather like a useful symbol of peace. Not that Ferals had much use for such things. She merely thought it was possible he was weary of the food his visitors brought him. She could understand growing weary of the same fare, especially if one didn't hunt and kill it personally before hand. Granted it took more than that to voluntarily starve oneself to this point as he had.

He took no notice of the squirrels she set down in front of him. It was as if they didn't exist at all.

She, on the other hand, had all of his attention. The first step she took in retreat seemed to ignite a spark of life inside him. He tried to move as if to follow her but instead collapsed and pitched forward onto his face. Squashing the squirrels as he landed.

It was clear to her that the male had not wanted her to leave. Whether he wanted her to stay or to follow where she went was immaterial, he just wanted to be where she was. It began to dawn on her that perhaps she was what he waited for, though how he knew anything about her was a mystery still.

She studied him curiously as he struggled to right himself briefly before giving up with a keening whine. He was too weak to do what his instincts demanded.

In this moment, she had two choices. She could leave him here and he would die, either from starvation and illness or at the claws of the predators in the area drawn out by the scent of weakness. Or she could take him with her.

It went against so many instinctive safeguards. A female should never give away the location of her den, least of all to a male. Without a den she was vulnerable. If her den were revealed to others, if the location were known, it would be as if she had no den.

The fact that this male was not Feral did not ease her fears. Non-ferals were the ones to call in the exterminators. Non-ferals destroyed forests and Ferals for reasons that made no sense.

But this male…

Something about him was compelling. Somehow she didn't think she could live with herself if she left him to die when she could prevent it. It wasn't like he could offer her much of a threat and she was going to ground for a while anyway. She would have the time it would take to fix him.

Besides, she was getting old for a Feral. Her death was likely in the next few seasons anyway. Luck simply didn't last forever. She would prefer to prevent at least one death successfully before the end came for her.

With a decisive nod she stepped forward to help him rise. Carefully she turned to pull his longer body over her back to carry. She was strong and he was light, so lifting him wasn't too much trouble. She had known it wouldn't be.

No the hard part would be moving with speed and stealth. It wouldn't do him any good to take him with her if she drew the attention of the other youkai in the wood. It would be impossible to fight while impeded by his mass and to drop him would probably break something. Bones tend to become brittle when the meat is gone from them.

Coaxing him back from the brink of starvation would be challenge enough without having to tend bone injuries. Bones took longer to heal and were too easily set wrong in the wilds. Most Ferals would rather lose the limb than try to heal it. Of course losing a limb was almost a death sentence anyway.

She carefully moved out of the vulnerable clearing. They needed cover if there was any hope of moving without being seen. She stopped just inside the tree line to consider her route home. Every path through the forest held its dangers at any time of day. The trick was to pick the one least likely to be more than she could handle. Some were more dangerous at night. Most held greatest danger at dusk and dawn.

Carefully she shifted the burden on her back and headed off towards a stretch of forest most of the instinct driven inhabitants in the wilds avoided. A Miko Phantom patrolled that area. Such unnaturalness always made the more natural elements of the forest uneasy. Death should be avoided, in all its forms. Normally, she would bypass the area too. Today, she planned to head right through it. A little cover of death might be her surest chance of survival.

She'd skirted the region on previous occasions when she had been a little too close to being caught by another Feral. To do so was dangerous and she knew it. The last Feral she had lead to those trees had been seriously maimed. She could still hear him screaming some nights as she rested in her den.

Consciously she suppressed the recollection. The past could have no baring now.

The male on her back settled his nose in the crook of her neck with a whimper and a puff of air that danced across her skin. The whimper indicated some manner of disappointment or pain, but she was not at leisure to search out the reason or bother to concern herself over it. First she had to see to it they both made it to the den.

Her movements were slow and cautious. To run might get her to safety quicker, but the risk of detection was higher. She did not trust her ability to run silent while burdened so. Nor did she trust the male to stay on her back at such speeds. What little help he managed to give her in keeping him in place was tenuous at best. He had no strength with which to hold on by himself.

So she moved slow and wary, her senses tuned to detect even the slightest hint of a threat over his uneven breathing in her ear. She listened to the wind for subtle changes. She tasted the air for possible hunters and placed every step with care lest a foot fall draw danger near. She kept her youki from reaching out; knowing to reach out was to leave herself open to detection by others.

Halfway to the den, chill rain began to fall. She sped up under such cover. In some ways, the rain was a blessing as it allowed her a greater measure of security. Few would bother venturing out to hunt in such weather this time of year. And there was no other reason to be out otherwise. No one could hear her move or breath under the sound of rainfall, so no one could spy upon them.

Chill rain could also bring illness to those already weakened as this male was. Illness that could be deadly in the wilds. Perhaps he would die despite her efforts to save him.

She growled with determination. She wouldn't give up until he breathed his last. If he had no will of his own with which to fight back encroaching death, the she would lend him hers. Death was inevitable true, but it didn't have to be encouraged to arrive.

She growled at the male to stay awake, that the den was near. She doubted he consciously understood her. Non-ferals never seemed capable of proper speech, rather they resorted to nonsensical syllables and tones.

She often found it odd that a non-feral automatically knew how to speak properly the minute they became feral, but seldom a minute before. Perhaps the other sounds got in the way of their understanding the proper language of youkai.

Still she tried to encourage him with tone and growl, rumble and warmth.

When she finally made it to the den it became obvious that absolutely none of her message got through. He was soaking wet, shivering, and asleep. With a petulant growl she stripped him down to the skin before setting him to rest in her nest of clothing. It had taken her years to pad it just right with the cast off clothing of Ferals that no longer needed them. It was soft and warm.

She stripped herself of wet garments as well, draping the clothes over the boulders near the front of her den before approaching the blackened pit that would hold her fire. She used only the driest wood. The less smoke she created from her main fire, the less chances for discovery.

Like all things in the wild, the fire took time to blaze adequately enough for her to crawl in beside her guest and evaluate the effects of the rain. The diagnosis was not good.

He burned with fever that emanated considerable heat above his skin. It was almost uncomfortable to touch him though there was little hope to avoid it. The moment she settled into her nest, he cuddled close to her despite his shivering. His skin was covered in sweat signifying he would soon need water to replenish what he lost and a bath to remove the residue from his skin before it could interfere with his body's natural efforts to cool him.

This was only the least of her problems.

There was the possibility that this illness would keep him unconscious. If it did, feeding him was going to be difficult as she wasn't quite certain as to how to feed an unconscious youkai.

She would figure something out, she was sure. She just hoped it was quick and effective enough to save him. For now, she and he could use some rest. She always thought sharper when she wasn't weary and time would tell whether he would wake.

So she bedded down for a bit of sleep with the youkai male nosing restlessly at the skin of her neck.