been kicked off my land at the age of sixteen

As it turns out, the greater countryside of Darrow doesn't have ample wildlife for InuYasha to hunt and feed on. Birds are hard to fell without entirely ripping them into shreds with his claws, raccoons remind him too much of Hachiemon, and there are only so many times he can eat venison before the taste starts lingering in his mouth. He's done a few favors for the farmers now and again to earn himself a meal, but the looks that they give him are enough of a disincentive to go back too often.

They show him the kind of wariness that tells him the slightest disruption could be easily placed on his shoulders. He's never been great at evading blame.

Against his better judgment, he heads back into the city when the rain starts pouring out in the wilderness, not quite daring to linger around the large residential buildings, but instead hiding under one of the gazebos in Grant Park. With the downpour, the park's largely empty anyway, and he sprawls out underneath the roof, laying on his side, pulling the folds of his robe closer to protect against the cold.

Some distance away, the park lake taunts him, fish swimming easily in the raised water. His stomach growls, and InuYasha scowls. He's pretty sure that these fish aren't meant to be eaten.

But he'd only need one or two, and there's no one in the park anyway. It can't hurt, right?

He stares at the water in his indecision, wrinkling his nose in thought.