Physical affection was not something Wen Qing often indulged in, even when she'd been alive and with her family. Hugging and ruffling Wen Ning's hair had been the extent, sometimes leaning against Granny, when she'd had a moment, holding a-Yuan and rocking him to sleep.

Perhaps there had been more affection in her life than Wen Qing had recognized, certainly in those last few months in the Burial Mounds. It's lonelier now, without her family around, which she knew, but never acknowledged, in ways she couldn't comprehend.

She keeps petting the fox, laughing softly when his ear twitches. "My brother brought home an injured cat once," she tells him. "Once I got his wounds to stop bleeding, he let a-Ning pet him until I sent him to bed. You're a little like that. Thank the heavens you're not bleeding, I'm no vet."

A sigh escapes her, and she stops petting him for a moment, looking away from the fox. "I miss him," she says. "Although I'm glad he's not here, with the horrors we've encountered." As though realizing she's getting maudlin, she looks back down at the fox, a wry smile on her lips, and gives him a belly rub instead. "Not that you need to worry about those horrors, playing in the forests all day."