The miko did not move from her spot, but she didn't offer him any more of the dango either, gnawing on the end of her chopstick.
Sesshoumaru had never been bothered by silence—it allowed for the rumblings of nature to take hold instead of the endless prattle of those too ignorant to listen.
However, in the presence of the miko, he found himself anxious to hear her thoughts, to know the intimate workings of her mind and soul.
His ward and vassal were always the ones to start conversations, and Sesshoumaru suddenly found himself with nothing to say.
"Do your stripes have a special meaning?" she blurted.