@kanmaes : ❝ i knew then you had a heart of cold iron. ❞ | kaname
cold iron befits his own expression, sesshomaru is but ice as he leans against the tree. his arm stings from the claws of naraku's latest conjuring, drips of his own golden blood starkly contrasting the white fur he proudly galavants in. her words cut deep like the gaping wound, yet he, the great lord, is the master of all things, most being the ability to stand motionless. ❝ i never gave you any other indication, ❞ monotone, he pretends it doesn't bother him. why should it? this human girl should mean nothing to him. he has no one to care for her, no one to protect as they say. but as he bares a wince, demonic eyes flash over hers for a second's pass. as red as the trees she sets aflame, as bloody as his eyes turn vengeful and tired, as true as the darkness of night : the great lord is pained. he turns away from her, fending off any pathetic semblance of emotion. ❝ my heart is my own kaname, gold or iron, cast in blood or bathed in bone, a heart is a heart. in this world you must be tough to survive : would you rather it be made of glass? to shatter upon those that wish me wrong? pathetic. ❞