Naga.
30 or more slithering about.
Among the serpents, surrounded by so many leering slits, Sesshomaru stood imperiously in the moonlight. There were too many to look on at once, so his eyes slid shut, his ears moving both together and independently as he followed their movements.
"Leave or perish."
Give the wretches a chance to flee with scales intact. That's what Rin wanted him to be—a benevolent Lord.
Not one heeded his warning.
A great hiss rose around him, a cacophony of rasps and clicks that ebbed down only to start up anew.
Sesshomaru summoned a lash and cracked it.
His whip was an extension of his hand, a manifestation of his very self. And like his claws, he could curve it as easily as he curled any finger.
