by IronRaven
Discalimer: Inuyasha and company aren't mine. They are the property of Rumiko Takahashi-sama.
Warning, enough warm fuzzy to make even Sesshomaru smile.
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The joists of Keade's hut popped in the cold, waking the smallest of those within. Shippou looked around, reluctant to crawl from his blanket. The dieing fire lit Keade's face with soft, yellowish light, as she snored softly. Sango and Miroku, both still exhausted from their time in the cold, murmured in their dreams, each almost replying to the other. It's like they are together in their dreams.
The thought brought a happy smile to the boy's face, remembering his own parent's doing the same thing. The memory drew him from the warm embrace of the wool, to the fire. Stirring it gently, adding more wood, Shippou warmed himself. Pausing to sniff the air, his face grew serious. Inuyasha, you could have stayed here, where it is warm. But I knew you wouldn't. You are stubborn as Kagome is.
Silently crossing to Keade's pottery, he selected a small, lidded clay jar, and returned to the fire with it an a pair of tongs. Using the tongs, the boy carefully dug out the small stones he had set at the edge of the coals hours earlier, before placing them in the pot, and wrapping it in a pair of blankets. Moving to the door, his little fox feet feather light on the floor, the kitsune paused to the pull the blanket back over Sango's bandaged feet, strips of gauze loosely wrapping each toe. I hope they didn't freeze too deeply. He glanced at Miroku's hand, similarly dressed over the beads reigning in the Kazaana, silently praying to the kami to heal his friends' injuries. Miroku's unbandaged hand flexed slightly, as he mumbled something happy sounding, Sango's hand clutching on air as she murmmered back, much to the humor of the pup who thought of them as his aunt and uncle. Against the wall, their weapons were propped, the sling of the hairikitsu draped against the body of his staff, her tassels brushing his rings as their heads leaned together in silent watch.
Slipping quickly through the door, the kitsune's breath was yanked from his chest by the bitter cold, while his eyes teared from the full moon's light. The snow glittered bluely in the open, while the moon threw harsh shadows under the trees. His breath rose straight up in the windless air as he made his way to the Bone-eater's well, and the god tree.
In the limbs of the mighty guardian of the forest, Inuyasha sat, curled up in Kagome's sleeping back. What do they make this out of. It's so warm, warmer than down. His thoughts kept the dancing stars company, not a cloud in the sky, as he remembered the tales he had learned of them. I wonder if the same stars are watching Kagome. In her time, you can't even see them.
"Shippou, is everything alright?"
How can you smell me? I can't smell me… "Inuyasha, I brought you a warming pot."
"Don't need it, runt. Go back to bed."
"I will. If you take the pot, or come back to the hut with me. You know she won't come in the middle of the night."
"Are Sango and Miroku doing better?" Moving his golden eyes to look at the kit, Inuyasha seemed cast from silver in the moonlight. "They will get better, right?"
"Keade thinks so. Your feet got better- you tried to hide it, but didn't do a good enough job."
"Feh! Of course, I'm a demon. Unless it's cut off, it will heal."
"Then I'm going to sit right here until dawn or until one of us freezes solid." Setting the pot down in the snow, it's sides gently hissing as they kissed the bluish-white jewel carpet on the ground, Shippou sat against the edge of the well, his back to it. "Well?"
"Feh, just head back and I'll be down to grab the damn pot, runt. You really are a pest, you know that?."
"If I do that, you won't get it. Come down first. Then I'll go."
Unzipping the sleeping bag, Inuysha gasped as his warm nest was cracked, leaving him with only Kagome's scent to warm him as he leapt down. Stooping to pick up the pot, he glared at the kit, "Fine, happy? I have the friggin' pot."
With a simple, silent nod, Shippou started back to Keade's, shivering slightly, until Inuyasha partially unwrapped the pot, dropping one of the still hot blankets on the boy. "Thanks, Inuyasha."
As he reached the edge of the clearing, Shippou could have sworn he heard Inuyasha whisper, "You're welcome, little brother." But when he looked back, the older demon was staring at the sky, searching it for something unknown, huddled in the surrogate warmth of Kagome.
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Author's Notes:
And that's a wrap. *click*
When I'm sick, I forget things. So Kagome leaving behind her sleeping bag worked for this.
And people thought I was babbling in my explination of ki and weapons. :)
For those who don't know frostbite, if it's bad enough the skin turns black from dead blood from frozen and ruptured vessels just ender the skin. As the tissues repair themselves, anything that can rub shouldn't be rubbed. If you do, the tissues can tear. That's why people with badly bitten fingers and toes wrap them, and so that they don't stick together during that process of healing (which would be very bad).