downswing: (shoot out)
ʟᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɢᴊɪ | 蓝忘机 ([personal profile] downswing) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2021-12-05 03:11 am (UTC)

( Easy, but the vicious, violent bird that fights the cage of his ribs, Lan Wangji's heart won't temper itself. Despair follows poverty like a loving groom chases the bride he has won through hardship — what they witness in the streets now, to the distant but blood-curdling howl of windows freshly crushed and guards beating deep-bent backs, is chaos.

This cannot be controlled long. The man Lan Wangji delivered barely shifts, hand soft trailing over glass, as if he were a feline following the outside procession, wishing himself there. He was wounded in the offensive, but cares little for his injury now that sitting down prevents him from aggravating it.

It startles Lan Wangji, to realise the depth of conviction — enough so that the moment unravels like old sailor's sisal rope, until he stirs to answer the question asked of him. The medic requires information to do his duties. Focus. )


A carriage was assailed. ( And softer, for he knows the likely inquiry to follow — was this man of the gentry? And how, given the wear and tear of his clothes? ) He stood in proximity. ( He need not add, the crowds. Like wolves, fangs turned bloody and inward. ) I do not believe he bled long.

( But he lacks in this the training to ascertain. )

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