The stall stank of death, each plant already rotting from being uprooted.
And yet humans seemed to use them for all occasions. His ward's smile was always the brightest when they came across a field of flowers.
Perhaps it would work on the miko.
"Trying to impress someone special?"
Sesshoumaru's brow furrowed at the vendor's words.
Special? Did that describe the miko? He supposed so.
A fringed iris caught his eye, its white petals standing out against the rest of the greenery. Making his selection, Sesshoumaru turned, eyes searching for raven hair.
Instead, he found her curious gaze on him already, the path between them seemingly empty of other patrons.
