A demon in a quiet storm, in a dark forest. Chewing.
Sesshomaru tried to think but his thoughts were too slippery.
'You jump ahead of your own greatness,' said his mother's disembodied voice, 'by centuries.'
Hating this. He hated the words and the smuggery in her eyes when she had said it.
And yet he anticipated some terrible, impending thing.
The cold air against his gums made him realize he was clenching his jaw. Blood surged as his heart throbbed; and it spread throughout, rushing faster and faster, hotter and hotter until he was just the anticipation sitting beside a half-eaten hare.
His vengeance will be cruel and certain.
The blood coursing through his veins was arrogant and had always kept him well beyond the reach of tragic fates more suited for the lesser sort. He had cut down and stood over all manner of demon-kind, as his blood was also fiercely belligerent and murderous.