Sesshomaru tracked Rin's scent to a nearby stream. There, he saw her cooking pot turned-over in the dirt, observed the trampled grass. Her footprints told a story. She was surprised by a demon and whirled to face it. At one point, even approached it.

But her scent ended here. Swooped upon by some flying demon, he quickly surmised.

Sesshomaru was crestfallen. Her kidnapper left no trace of his or herself.

Or so he thought.

He paused in his walk, detecting something familiar.

Instantly his worry transformed into annoyance.

The moody nonsense she irritates me with.

Only she could put on the performance of walking when really she hovered underneath her many robes. Only one capable of the trick. Only one so disinclined to walk among others.

Sesshomaru craned his head up towards the sky.

If not for the tail-end of his mother's pelt making contact with the grass, leaving behind a single tuff of fur, he might have never figured it out.