He watched as she wound another layer of gauze around the hanyou's torso. She frowned as red seeped through the fabric. He watched the frown grow when the red continued to spread. Her patient finally lost his tolerance for her medicines and waved her away, clawed hands coming up to swat away the hands intent on healing him, announcing he didn't need to be fussed over "like some weak human".
Still, he watched, his tiny form trembling with unleashed anger and jealousy. She always tended to the older male first. HE wanted to be tended. Wanted her to gently scold HIM in that voice that meant she was relieved, not angry. He wanted her to fuss over HIM.
He hadn't even noticed she moved until he was cradled in her arms.
"Shippou? You weren't hurt were you?" It was wrong and he knew it. The monk would smirk. The hanyou would thump him. But it was worth it. His eyes began to water. His lip began to tremble.
Instantly she was cuddling him, lips brushing his head, hands stroking his tail as she allowed him to tuck himself in against her chest. He was glad she wouldn't see his grin.