- CHAPTER EIGHT – CHALLENGE -


Ginta scanned the ravine, watching a peaceful river wind contentedly through, undisturbed in its meandering course south. Two wolves stood as sentries with him, ears forward and eyes alert as they searched for any threat.

Smelling nothing but water and rocks, one whined softly, earning a pat on the head.

"They're not here yet," he reassured, shrugging off the mantle of fur over his shoulders. It wasn't even midday, and he was already too warm. "Don't worry."

The wolf pushed into Ginta's hand, looking for a scratch, and the man obliged, rubbing the thick, furry ruff at his neck.

Footsteps approached, and he rose from his crouch. A familiar figure, wearing brown pelts and a simple breastplate, crested the vantage point, looking bored as he examined his claws in the sunlight.

"All clear sir," Ginta called.

Kouga made no effort to acknowledge him, checking the steep, rock sides himself, eyeing large boulders and lazily-moving water. Satisfied, he nodded. "Hakkaku will be here soon to relieve you. Notify him of any change."

Ginta adjusted his armor, a habitual fidget he didn't know revealed his unease. "How are fortifications coming?"

The wolf prince cracked a sneer, his boredom vanishing in a show of hate. "The trap's complete. She's here."

"Will the Ouja take the bait?" Ginta thought of the steep cost; if he were less loyal, the death of those who'd broken into the mountain might have seemed too high a price to pay just to lure their enemies from their fortress.

"I know Inu-koro," Kouga heard the disquiet his lieutenant didn't voice. "He'll come, raging blindly and screaming like a savage. We killed two of his own," he bent to cup the muzzles of the wolves at Ginta's side, displaying his dominance as well as his affection. "The hanyou can't contain himself. He's a fool when it comes to those under his charge."

"A fool?"

Kouga straightened, letting his fingers fall from the twin faces staring up in adoration. "You don't agree with my tactics?" He narrowed his eyes.

Ginta had been with Kouga since the beginning, before he'd been a prince, or leader, or even fully-grown – he and Hakkaku were his most trusted advisors. It didn't matter. The council they gave was never heeded. The man before him was calculating, arrogant, and self-serving. "My feelings are of no consequence," he muttered.

"True," Kouga watched him. "Make sure to remember that."

Ginta nodded curtly, biting the inside of his cheek; it was getting harder and harder to hold his tongue.

Kouga patted his thigh, and the wolves leapt to his side. He left with them in tow, abandoning his lieutenant to finish his shift alone.

Ginta watched their descent and vaguely wondered what following a leader who cared enough to seek vengeance would be like.


"Why did the wolves attack in the first place?" Kagome rummaged through a crate of brightly-colored clothes in one of the clan's twelve drop-off rooms, hoping to expand her wardrobe from a single, borrowed dress.

Moegi pushed aside a cloak covered in feathers, making a face at its ostentatious shoulders. "We've battled the Eastern Wolf Tribe for years," she mumbled, preoccupied at the rush of tacky items she had just uncovered. "The war started before I got here."

"War? You're in the midst of a war?" Kagome cringed thinking of Inu-Yasha's offhand mention and her own disinterest.

The hanyou climbed into the trunk she was exploring, sending hats and shoes flying as she dug down. "It's just back and forth skirmishes of attrition now," a pair of trousers made mostly of lacings sailed through the air. "But I think it started because of a girl."

Kagome pushed back against her own crate, the lurid blues, reds, and oranges of Kanaka's upper-class making her head spin. "A priestess?"

"No," Moegi reappeared, holding two dresses without any beading or feathers. Their lack of decoration didn't reflect quality – tight stitching and neat seams ran throughout both. "She was a wolf hanyou who left the Ouja," leaping from the trunk, she passed them to the human girl for inspection. "Betrayed them actually. They don't like saying her name, but Shion and I pick up a lot sweeping the main hall."

Kagome nodded her thanks at the new outfits, each plain, clean, and gray. Moegi already knew her tastes well. She waited for her to go on, but the hanyou turned instead and started picking up her trunk's rejects.

Kagome bent to help. "What'd she do?" She ventured, retrieving a pair of ludicrously high-heeled boots.

Moegi shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it's quite a grudge to hold."

Kagome scoffed. "Inu-Yasha doesn't strike me as someone who lets things go."

"You think?"

The two women shared a smile and finished cleaning quickly. Moegi closed the trunk's lid and started for a tunnel back into the heart of the mountain, offering nothing more on the traitor who'd started a years-long conflict. "Now, where were we?"

Kagome joined her, draping the dresses over an arm, and vowing to ask Inu-Yasha later. "You were going to show me the training halls?"

"Right."


Twenty hanyou traveled through an open field of tall grass, moving with speed and focus as they ran or flew. Inu-Yasha, Ibuki, and Eiichi were up front, breaking brittle stalks against their chests as they barreled by. The hebi had insisted on coming despite the shriveled state of his regenerating arm, and the handicap hadn't slowed him yet. Miroku and a sky demon named Youta soared overhead, while the rest left trampled meadow in their wake, unconcerned with the obvious trail. This was a mission of payback, not stealth.

Though Inu-Yasha raced alongside his brothers, his mind was far from them. He knew he should be thinking of the fight ahead, but couldn't concentrate on anything other than Kagome. Questions and musings for more called him back to the mountain. He wanted to learn everything about her – Hana, her father, former flames, life in Kanaka. Bare feet tore through the field, moving on automatic.

It didn't help that she had given back his haori; her scent coated it, dulling his senses to everything but her dark hair, flashing eyes, and damning curves.

On either side, Eiichi and Ibuki noticed his detachment, sharing a look over his shoulders.

"Hey… boss," the oni was breathless from their pace. He was known for size, not swiftness, but didn't want the preoccupied man to regret his invitation. It was an honor to accompany him, and if he fought well, it might be recognized in a promotion up from vault duty. Pushing himself to show his worth, he gulped for words. "You okay?"

Inu-Yasha nodded absently.

"What's up?" Eiichi pressed.

From behind, sets of kuma, neko, and tokage ears strained forward.

Inu-Yasha cursed at the nosy clansmen pressing in around him. "I'm just worried about the wolves," he grumbled. "Kouga's planning something."

A swirling, purple cloud of mist dipped down from above. "Yeah right," Miroku's voice filled the air. "You're thinking about that human girl."

Inu-Yasha glared up. "Have you got something against her?"

"She distracts you," he said simply. "And now isn't the time to be consumed."

Nods of agreement swept through the group, save for a pair of brothers near the back; Moric and Kenta were laboring to keep up, running on all fours.

"Kagome's alright," Kenta called, sweating through his thick fur. "I'd swear she has some youkai blood in her."

"Who cares?" Eiichi glared over his still-mangled shoulder. "Just because you carried an armload of wood for her, you suddenly think she's more important than smashing wolf skulls?"

"Easy with your level of asshole," Moric spoke in defense of his brother. "It's too early in the day for your usual cheer."

Eiichi opened his mouth, but Inu-Yasha's bark stopped his retort.

"Enough," he growled. "All of you," amber flicked skyward at his trusted second. "I don't need to explain myself," he surged ahead. "Come on."

Legs covered in fur, scales, and armor followed, knowing discussion was closed.

Inu-Yasha led in silence, and the party journeyed until the sun had started its slow descent into the west. The field gave way to the beginnings of forest, marked with rugged, intermittent trees, and Youta and Miroku flew farther, scanning for advance scouts. The Ouja range had faded to a dim blot of darkness against the horizon when they finally slowed.

Without orders, Eiichi scaled an aged, towering trunk, surprisingly swift with the use of only one arm. Peering through branches that swayed from his weight, he shouted to the waiting band below. "He definitely came this way," he spoke of the escaped wolf. "He tried covering his tracks, but did a poor job – they head towards a ravine."

Inu-Yasha scanned the valley in the distance, still more than a day away. "Any defenses?"

"None that I can see," Eiichi flicked a long, forked tongue out, tasting the air. "But their stench is already on everything."

Inu-Yasha agreed. Few Ouja could rival his nose, but everyone's face had started scrunching up at the musky odor permeating earth and stone. He thought it would dampen Kagome's scent from his haori, but no amount of outside air seemed to touch it. Part of him – one he wouldn't say aloud – was glad; it was a small comfort amid the grim task before them.

Inu-Yasha shook his head. Miroku was right. Now wasn't the time. Lifting his chin, he swiveled around, turning his ears back and forth.

Behind them, field stalks danced in a gentle breeze. Ahead, the sound of slow-moving water echoed off sheer cliff sides. His men began fanning out in a circle, searching with each of their strengths, still and tense as they looked for signs of ambush.

After a few minutes, Inu-Yasha cleared his throat. "Let's make camp," he motioned Eiichi down. "Isato and Oki – take first watch."

Two hanyou, lizard and feline, moved at once, marching forward to make a perimeter as the hebi jumped from his tree.

Inu-Yasha was comfortable giving commands; they came naturally. He knew how to temper his tone or push an issue without conscious effort; fear and austerity weren't tools he used to gain allegiance. His father, a daiyoukai of insurmountable power and vast, western lands, had bestowed a presence to his half-human son among the demon strength and senses. It was innate – a way of standing, looking, and deciding – that made men follow. All of the Ouja saw it. He'd had it since he was fifteen, little more than a boy under someone else's care.

Oki, a neko demon with large cat eyes and extendible claws, followed Eiichi's example, climbing a tree until he disappeared among its dense leaves. A hint of his tail slipped from the cover as it wound around a branch to help him perch. Isato, pale-green and covered in scales, found a rock in Oki's line of sight. Crouching upon it, he sat in the open, a vanguard against any intruders among the beginning shadows.

Evening sank slowly as Miroku and Youta returned. Miroku began changing back to solid, and Youta descended, long white hair flying up in a column above him. The sky hanyou was tall and broad-shouldered, with pointed ears and intelligent eyes. Where Ren, as adept at flight, was practically disfigured by human standards, Youta had experienced little of his clansman's persecution – at least regarding appearance. His features were reminiscent of a youkai's beauty – ethereal and enthralling.

He approached Inu-Yasha with swift steps. "Sir," the pitch of his voice matched his shoulders in appeal. "You were right about the water. We found a river that slopes down into a steep gorge."

Inu-Yasha, Ibuki, and Kenta encircled him, and others nearby who gathered firewood paused.

"It took awhile," Youta continued. "The reek in the air made it impossible to find through smell alone."

Miroku joined them, still partly-translucent. "It was actually the lack of stench that made us check a small mountain path. A waterfall tumbles there, but it hardly warrants the title; I've never seen such a ruined, rock-filled excuse. Still, its current rinsed all scent of the wolves away."

"You weren't seen?" Inu-Yasha eyed the valley, awash in color at the fading sun.

"We were still hours away," Youta assured. "They'd have to be looking for us to notice."

Kenta frowned. "They are looking," he followed his leader's gaze. "They know how the Ouja repay debts."

Inu-Yasha kept silent, inviting Ibuki to add his opinion.

The hulking man, over-sized arms clumsy at his side, gave an uncomfortable cough. "Were you?" He asked. "Seen I mean?"

Miroku, fully-transformed now, glared coldly. "No," he folded his hands into deep purple sleeves, daring the oni to say otherwise.

Inu-Yasha scowled. Talk about not the time – Miroku was far too established for such posturing. "Knock it off," he snapped. "It's a legitimate question. Don't dismiss it just because you're upset about Kagome."

Youta, Kenta, and Ibuki all backed up a step as anger and embarrassment flushed the wind demon's face.

"We weren't," he snarled. "And I resen—," he stopped short, eyes flying wide.

Youta followed, jerking his gaze upward. Both men's jaws fell.

Inu-Yasha stared between them. What do they sense that I'm not? Grabbing a handful of Miroku's robes, he almost pulled him from his feet. "What is it?!"

The breeze in the air picked up, growing to a roaring wind. A new scent swept the edge of the forest, and wafts of fetid decay pushed through the trees. Ouja dropped their collections of kindling and branches as it hit them, surging to their noses and filling their frames with acrid stench. Moric, Isato, and several others fell to their knees; Oki gave a strangled cry and tumbled from his branch.

Inu-Yasha and the brothers beside him began to choke.

"Who…?" He gagged, as even the shield of Kagome's scent failed.

Branches whipped wildly as blasts of wind parted the surrounding forest. A dark-haired woman riding a large, flying feather appeared, wearing a wicked smile.

Red eyes appraised the men below. "Greetings half-bloods," her voice lilted in sadistic delight, and she watched gleefully as Eiichi doubled over. "The little wolf prince wants you dead. Poor boy didn't know I deal with all the filth below me, not just the most pathetic ones," her gaze dropped to Inu-Yasha. "Speaking of," she zoomed from the tree-line.

Inu-Yasha locked his knees, fighting to stay standing, and his comrades worked to do the same, cupping hands to their faces to ward off the potent air. "Who the hell are you?" He growled. Stink invaded his mouth, ramming down into his lungs.

The woman's smile grew. It seemed to strain her face, as if the flesh clinging to her bones wasn't strong enough to maintain the expression. "Ignorant orphan," she cooed. "How can you know greatness when your world is so small?" Her feather hovered above their heads. "I'm Kagura," her smile dropped as she saw no recognition. "I've come to end your misery."

Inu-Yasha reached for the sword at his hip. "I think you have that backwards."

Her eyes lit up. "I hope you make it more interesting than the prince and his mutts," she took in the other men, tensing into battle stances. "They fell too easily to deserve the name youkai."

Miroku gasped, pulling his palm from his nose and mouth. "What did you do to Kouga?!"

Kagura's smile returned. "Like you, he was unremarkable," she withdrew a folded fan from her kimono sleeve. "Small beings get small ends."

She charged suddenly, scattering the cluster around Inu-Yasha. Ibuki and Kenta ducked and rolled, coming up in tandem, and Youta leapt into the air, levitating.

Kagura smirked as the sky demon entered her plane. "You can't join me, handsome," she whipped her fan toward him and blades of wind shot forth, slamming him back to the ground. "Down boy."

He hit the earth, shoved with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs and shuddered the field.

Seeing his comrade fall, Oki dusted himself off at the base of his tree and coiled for a spring, launching himself without permission. Assaults on clan members weren't talked out or reasoned over – retribution was swift, painful, and agreed on without council.

Equally incensed, another neko and a small, whiskered nezumi followed – ignoring the natural rift between their species in favor of taking down a common foe.

All three leapt, claws and sword aimed for jugular.

With a lazy flick, Kagura sent more dancing wind slicing through the air, splitting open wounds along their skin, and halting their advance. They plummeted down in a cloud of dust, and Eiichi and several others took up the mantle, howling and leaping next.

She watched them in disinterest, moving both arms and pushing her palms out. Razor-sharp gusts seared through shoulders and faces with ease, lacing the evening half-light with trails of blood. They fell near Youta, and her lip curled in disgust. "I spoke too soon. There's no fun here. You boys are very disorganized," she eyed the red-splattered forms. "And not too bright."

Miroku and Inu-Yasha looked to each other, sharing a nod. They'd battled side by side for fifty years, before there was anyone else to cover their backs. The wind hanyou started morphing as Inu-Yasha let go of his father's sword, spreading his palms wide and offering a cocky smirk.

"No need to dirty Tessaiga," he flexed his claws, pushing down his desire to check on his men. This was a meeting that required bravado; he could squelch his concern like he did everything else. "I'll kill you with my bare hands."

Kagura's eyes narrowed. "Your arrogance is unjustified."

"We'll see."

"Oh?" Red irises sank to slits.

Inu-Yasha's smirk grew. From their backs, Youta, Oki, and the rest of his brothers watched him, waiting for the subtle signal he gave with his hand.

With her attention on the Ouja leader, Kagura was unprepared as forms under her erupted in movement. Eiichi and the others rose and crouched, burly arms and animalistic cries springing up, surrounding her.

Miroku joined them as a cloud of angry wind, rushing forward and surging into Kagura's stomach. The woman's mouth dropped open as he shoved her from the feather, sending her tumbling among the rocks and dirt she'd scorned. Clansmen descended, landing hard on her arms and chest, and tearing at her kimono with snarls and claws.

Kagura swore as Kenta and Moric rose up on two legs, crashing down with roars that shook the trees. She grappled against a kitsune as he tried wrestling her fan away, and a lizard tail took advantage of her distraction, snaking around her throat. She pulled at it wildly, and Isato grinned.

"Half-bloods have their ways," he tightened his hold into a strangle.

Miroku spread out in a mist over her, a net to catch her escape, and Inu-Yasha walked over calmly, examining dirt in his claws. Bound from the hold of over a dozen men, Kagura glared up in liquid fire.

After a moment, he glanced down. "My second-in-command asked you a question," he said. "Kouga?"

The woman's features contorted as rage and indignation made her ugly. "You fool," she gasped out.

Inu-Yasha made no move to stop Isato's continued choke, waiting expectantly.

"He charged me with killing you," she spat. "I did you a favor."

Sending a nod to the tokage demon, he crossed his arms and watched as the man brought a clawed foot to her chest, bearing down until bone crunched.

Kagura swore again – her version of crying out. "Enough," held at the wrist by the kitsune and Kenta, she spread her fingers wide and closed her eyes. The whipping wind raking the woods intensified.

Red haori sleeves and white hair batted frenetically, and Inu-Yasha's gaze turned wary. "We have you witch."

Her eyes flew open. "No."

The winds began to spiral, growing thick and long. Tornadoes, gathering strength, touched down everywhere. One appeared beside Miroku, sucking him into its swirling torrent before he could even react, engulfing streaks of purple where he'd once been.

Other tornadoes tore at the arms holding Kagura, picking up the hanyou and hurling them into the air. Her teeth flashed in the shadows as she looked up at Isato. "Your ways are dim imitations of a race you'll never know," her fan was a blur as it rose from the dirt, calling forth more blades. They sank into his face, tearing at his eyes, and he shouted and staggered back. His tail uncoiled as he palmed ripped, exposed flesh.

Free, Kagura rose, kimono sleeves waving as she puppeted the tornadoes in a deadly dance.

Inu-Yasha snarled and sprung forward, swiping at her with extended claws.

She dodged nimbly, sending a new tornado crashing down. He rolled away, fisting hands until he drew blood; channeling his power, he called up blades of his own.

"Hijin Kesso!" Knives of blood rocketed towards her.

Kagura spread her fan, deflecting the attack easily. She followed after them, charging Inu-Yasha until they were nose to nose. "Still don't need Tessaiga? I would think—," she paused, sniffing. Her gaze fell to his haori as wind funnels raged past, picking up protesting, flailing bodies and discarding them like trash. "Who's this all over you?" Mirth filled her voice. "A little, human female for a boy too weak to have real women?"

Inu-Yasha shoved her back at step, catching one of his men plummet down from the corner of his eye. "Get away from me witch!" He kept his voice hard. "Your stench is stronger than your bad weather."

Kagura's smile sank to sneer. "First the wolf tribe, then a band of grasping pretenders," pleasure lit her eyes. "Today will be fruitful after all," she ran a tongue over her parted lips. "Your little consort and the lair of unloved pups she hides in will be my dessert."

The tornadoes churned around them, batting the Ouja about as if they were sheets on a line, dashing them to rocks that grew less and less forgiving.

"Don't you touch her!" Inu-Yasha snarled, gripping Tessaiga's hilt.

Kagura felt Ibuki running up from behind and turned, scattering a barrage that tore into the oni's abdomen, making him stumble. "Just try and stop me," she challenged, calling a new tornado to sweep the interruption away. It caught Ibuki in the chest and flung him towards the trees; branches impaled his limbs as he crashed into hard pines, and a guttural scream filled the air.

Inu-Yasha cursed and withdrew his father's sword. "You're DEAD!"

Kagura examined him as a hunter watching cornered prey, ignoring the chaos around her. "You're so protective. A paltry human, then an ugly half-oni," she grinned in scorn. "My, you have a thing for rejects," her gaze lifted to Tessaiga. The blade, rusty and thin, shook with fury in Inu-Yasha's hands, and her grin widened. "But better a king among outcasts then a shunned weakling with your own kind, right?"

Inu-Yasha roared and leapt at her, blade high.

Kagura didn't bother stepping back. She lifted a hand and caught Tessaiga mid-strike. "When I'm done with you," she leaned close as he struggled to pull his sword away. "I'm going to kill your female," her grip was iron, and she smiled, taunting and cavalier. "Maybe I'll carry her carcass around for awhile. Make her a message for any other youkai who want to further taint bloodlines."

"No!" Inu-Yasha cried, wrenching Tessaiga free. A burst of light followed, and a ripple of energy shot from the sword. Kagura and Inu-Yasha were both dropped to their knees, and the explosion thundered through the tornadoes, dissipating them instantly. They wisped into nothingness, slowing the sky and leaving it still.

Freed from their hold, Miroku grew solid and plummeted downward. Palming the air, he called to the wind below, slowing his descent. He hovered a moment as his feet returned to mist and looked over at Inu-Yasha, eyes widening at the transformed sword.

Tessaiga, now a hulking giant, bit the dirt. Inu-Yasha rushed to his feet and hefted the fang with two hands.

Kagura copied him, rising and plucking a feather from her hair, throwing it to the ground as he lunged. The feather grew, and she jumped on, sailing upward just as the sword swung clumsily down. The woman shoved the disbelief from her face, pulling on another sneer. "You wield that worse than a practice bokken."

Inu-Yasha looked around. His men, free from the plague of her dancing wind, were starting to rise. "I don't see your tornadoes," he managed a note of derision. "There's nothing to bolster your taunts now."

Kagura kept her sneer. "I won't need those against your little, would-be mate," she rose higher into the sky. "Let's see if you can catch me carrying that thing around."

Youta flew toward her from behind. Quick hands wrenched the fan from her fingers, and a furious arm wrapped around her neck in a stranglehold. "You're not going anywhere," he whispered hoarsely, blood running over an eye and into his mouth. "My brothers and I aren't done with you," bits of red flecked her cheek.

Kagura glanced back at the white-haired hanyou. "As delicious as the prospect is of spending more time with you gorgeous, I've got a mountain of muddy orphans to eradicate," she jabbed an elbow into his side, striking broken rib. Youta doubled over, and she whirled around, grabbing back her fan. "Though I'm sorry to bruise such a pretty face," she pointed the weapon at the space between his eyes just as a new bellow surged through the air, followed by deadly blade.

"Not today, demon," Inu-Yasha growled, slicing Tessaiga into her shoulder and blooming blood across her kimono.

Kagura screamed in pain and fury. With an angry shove, she pushed Youta off the feather and tried ducking out from under the sword. It bit down her front, carving across her chest, leaving her screeching. Clutching the blade again, her arms wavered against it, struggling to free herself.

"Not so pathetic now," Inu-Yasha followed the sword, arcing up towards her.

Rage, blinding and intense, flooded her gaze; Kagura's lips moved, and the feather jerked away. Tessaiga ran off her hip, tasting only air. "For today," she spat, zooming upward. Retreating swiftly, she headed back for the tree-line.

"After her!" Youta cried, hovering in mid-air.

Inu-Yasha landed nimbly and straightened. "No," he held up a hand. "Let her go."

Miroku eyed his leader; Inu-Yasha had never been one for caution or restraint. He had chased down innumerable enemies, heedless of injury or consequence. Was this Kagome's doing? The wind hanyou bent and offered a hand out to Kenta.

The kuma, covered in bruises that would soon fill his insides, accepted the palm with a ginger nod.

Youta lowered, touching down. He limped to Inu-Yasha's side, and the two men watched Kagura disappear into the growing night, her white feather swallowed in shadows.

"We had her sir," he started.

Inu-Yasha shook his head. "Ibuki's hurt," he motioned to the forest. "And surviving members of Kouga's tribe could be less than a day away," he watched as Tessaiga reverted to its original form in his hand, staring at the sword for a long moment. "I don't want to be caught out here and blamed for a mess we didn't start."

"Surviving members?" Youta wiped at the blood filling his view.

Inu-Yasha sheathed his father's blade. "Kagura underestimated us. I'm sure she did the same with the wolves."

Eiichi approached with the arm of another man over his shoulders. They leaned on each other heavily. "I hope for our sake you're wrong sir."

Inu-Yasha turned to the valley, obscured in darkness. "Me too."


Night covered the remnants of a waterfall decimated to rubble. Water cascaded over broken rocks, ripped from the earth by ferocious tornadoes bent on destruction. A section of debris shifted and tumbled down, splashing loudly into the fast-moving current. A clawed hand splattered in blood followed, stretching for the stars. Kouga dug himself out, snarling loudly. More rocks fell as he pulled his legs free. The wolf prince, soaked and half-drowned, surveyed the damage around him.

"GINTA!" His shout filled the shadows, rising above the crashing waterfall. "HAKKAKU!" He whirled in place, searching wildly. "AYAME!"

Motionless forms lay everywhere. Wolf bodies, sunken in and lifeless, littered the rocks, the smell of wet fur, copper, and death drifting up in answer.

Kouga looked down the river. Blotted figures bobbed amidst the churn. Many of his brothers had already been washed away.

"ANYBODY!?" Panic edged his voice as he spun, desperation making footing precarious.

A weak groan pierced his growing terror. The youkai leapt towards it, crouching low and throwing rocks aside. They plunked down into the waterfall, immediately nameless and gone.

The groan came again, and Kouga dug faster. "I'm here," he said. "Hold on."

Ginta's face appeared as he lifted a last boulder. "My lord," his voice was a death whisper.

Kouga plunged his hands down and wrapped them under Ginta's arms. With a grunt, he heaved until cool air hit the man's shoulders. "You're alright. I've got you."

A trace of smile touched Ginta's lips. "I don't think so sir," he savored the freedom, even while his lower half remained trapped. "Shoka's new cub is under me," the words came slowly, with great effort. "I grabbed him before Kagura caused the cave-in."

Kouga continued to pull, unwilling to listen, and hefted the rest of him out with a cry that shook the remains of their home.

His lieutenant's armor was cracked beyond recognition. Pieces of it were imbedded in his chest and abdomen, leaving his torso a fleshy mishmash of deep cuts and vital organs. Without the pressure surrounding him, Ginta began to bleed everywhere. The coursing water washed it away, but he kept feeding it.

Kouga palmed the wounds feebly. "Don't worry," he choked out.

Ginta grabbed his prince's hand, squeezing with the last of his strength. "Save him. He doesn't have much time."

Kouga shook his head. "First you."

Ginta mumbled something, and Kouga bent his head to hear.

The mouth below moved, working to form understandable words. "Forget… the Ouja. Find the… others," Ginta closed his eyes. "Leave me."

Kouga growled, pressing down on his ribs with more pressure. "Never!"

The man suddenly went slack as the last flicker of life left him

Kouga stared in disbelief. His brain stuttered and threatened to shut down as Ginta went heavy and pale. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting through shock and outrage in degrees he had never known, feeling a scream build in his stomach. It grew to an anguished howl and ripped up his spine, reverberating off the valley's walls and sounding to all nearby.

Someone would pay for the carnage here. Amidst his raging grief, he knew just who to exact a price from.