It wasn’t like any other demons tried to confront Motochika, at least not for many years now; even so, the familiar scent of human blood and the tearing of flesh was unmistakable. He had come upon another demon, it’s back to him as it knelt on the ground eating a poor soul who had been out wandering in the woods. It didn’t take long for them to catch Motochika’s scent, spinning to face them with wide eyes. Large silver-purple eyes stared back at the older demon, wide with shock and fear, blood dripping down the young woman’s chin and covering her clawed hands. “I-I didn’t... I’m.. I’m not..” Shook her head slowly, as if scared by him, but then a few tears rolled down her blood-smeared cheeks. “.. I’m not a demon..” She had long, wild black hair tipped a deep blue, and wore the attire of a demon slayer, torn and soiled as it was.