Disclaimer: I claim ownership over nothing, and I think you'd be silly to believe otherwise.
kiwoku
The animals of the forest whispered danger amongst themselves. Battles were not uncommon here, but confrontations such as these were graver than those between mere human warlords. This was the work of demons. And when such darkness descended upon the land, so did dread.
There was much strong spiritual energy to be found here. There were rumors of a man of the Buddha, one of great power and who could harness the wind with his right hand. In his company was one of the inu youkai lineage --- of a family widely feared and respected. This was true of even the rare hanyou. Initially, few believed the outrageous claims that the odd, loose-looking girl who traveled with them was truly a Shinto priestess who carried within her the magic of Midoriko, but murmurs of witnessings of her grand displays of holy power spread, like fire through the fields, in numbers that could not be denied.
The wise knew to be on guard when individuals of great power united, and even more so when they clashed as was in their nature to do. It came as no surprise to the creatures that the group was challenging the power of one whose name was dangerous to even whisper, lest the utterence carried on the wind to his ears. Those who were brought to his attention were unfortunate: their line, for many generations, would be cursed. The hole in the monk's hand bore ample testimony to that.
That the battle was to take place here was grieved heavily. Oftentimes it happened that the miko, the houshi, and the hanyou had to pursue the fearsome monstrosity, but this time, he had sent two of his agents after them with three shards of a jewel the animals knew better than to want any part of. Being unable to do anything else, they avoided the clearing and hoped to also avoid notice.
The female taijiya extended her arm and caught the large bone weapon on its return path. The monk had not yet recovered from the chest strike, and judging from appearances, he would not soon. He was on his hands and knees, choking on blood. The taijiya looked quickly over at the boy-warrior she worked with as he advanced upon the young miko. Both demon slayers went undistracted by the hanyou nearby who had visible difficulty deciding which of his human companions to aid.
"Miroku-sama!" the girl cried, seeing the monk. She fired another arrow at the boy, Kohaku, has he swung his blade in a deadly arc toward her head. She flinched downward as the scythe fell, but it was stopped by the sudden appearance of a transformed katana. Tessaiga.
"You little shit!" The hanyou roared, forcing the boy back with the enormous demon fang. "Kagome," he called over his shoulder, "go check on Miroku."
The young girl obeyed quickly, dropping to her knees beside the fallen man and placing a gentle hand at his back. "Miroku-sama? You'll be all right, won't you, Miroku-sama? Miroku-sama?"
"Just a little bruise," the bloody chuckle accompanying his words dotted the mud black. He caught sight of the female taijiya, and when she watched him with only a hunter's eyes, he turned away as though the image physically pained him. Slowly, deliberately, she brought Hiraikotsu over her head and set her sights on the pair on the ground.
A noise to her right indicated the hanyou managing to push Kohaku away with the sword, and, eyes on her, prepared to do battle. "Sango, you stupid bitch!" Sango . . . It echoed in the abandoned corridors of her mind, and for a moment, she hesitated. But it was enough. The half-breed had dealt her a blow with that demon-blade of his, knocking her backward into the mire.
"You bastard!" She looked up in time to see the wounded monk --- a blur of dark cloth --- charge at the hanyou, pinning him to the earth with a staff topped with golden rings. "How dare you hurt her?!" He shook his dog-eared companion, though he was bleeding considerably through the mouth and in no condition to be moving around hastily as he was. The miko shrieked. Blood continued to drip from his parted lips.
There was pulling at the back of her mind. She was being summoned. Getting to her feet, she glanced at the boy, who was already returning the look, and together they disappeared into the endless darkness that surrounded the clearing. She could easily ignore the sounds of feet pounding after them and the shouting of that word --- a name? --- again. Sango, Sango . . .
The stifling dark energy withdrew, and the more daring creatures crept from safety to survey the area. Some observed the sharp smells of pain and blood in the air. A few picked up the scent of one who was recognized as part of the group . . . only . . . tinged with the stench of evil. The taijiya who had disappeared from the group not two moon cycles before.
Many found themselves cringing upon hearing the desperate cry of one human male as he stumbled in the direction of the taijiya's retreat. "Sango!"
As I own nothing but the inanity of my own mind, credit where credit is due:
Takahashi Rumiko - Inuyasha
Peter Hausen - Lied Vom Kindsein
Every Little Thing - "kiwoku"