Audience
The dark, damp body steps across dry fields, wet hide towering over drought. On a shallow hill before forest, Sesshoumaru watches with yellow eyes, windows to hidden fur and teeth. There is a monk between the demon and its prey. Abruptly. And too young.
Smooth-faced boy, he shouts graciously. "Leave now, Oni-san, and I will let you be!" Stroking beads around his wrist like a cat. A giant's laughter, crushing forward. A small face tightens, telling of genius taught by misfortune.
It ends, a thundering fall to the cracked earth. The mysterious cat power isn't needed. Sesshoumaru leaves. And forgets.