She had never felt as nervous about anything in her life as she did now trailing at the back of the pack with Shippo blathering away in her ear about nonsensical things as he seemed to pick up on her discomfort. Directly ahead of them Sango and Miroku appeared to be having a civil conversation, though it didn't last long as Miroku slid his hand across the demon slayers backside, defending himself and his cursed hand when she made to retaliate. But even the standard display of Miroku splayed on the ground nursing a large bump did nothing to alleviate her ever growing tension.
And the sun, bright and cheery lighting the land ablaze with is cooking temperatures that made her thankful for the summer uniform she currently wore, seemed so foreboding.
Then she felt it.
Oh… Gods…
A pulse.
A pull.
…He's coming…
The terrible sensation of tainted shards had her halting her movements in utter dread.
…Naraku…