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open | teeth on my waist i come undone
WHO: Wei Wuxian & ( you )
WHEN: The week or two following the drinking of village curse-juice and forest capers.
WHERE: Ke-Waihu.
WHAT: Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng managed to knock over a shrine; the local shrine occupant took offense. Now they're temporarily foxes until they finish rebuilding the shrine over the next week (or two). Encounter him as a fox! Work with him while he's a fox. Stare at him wondering what the fox happened.
WARNINGS: Wei Wuxian is deeply, intractably afraid of dogs, and it is likely to come up in narrative, along with the particulars of what he does not like about dogs and/or envisions them doing.
He took no delight in his shifted circumstances, the luck of it all horrid and wrapped up in its own jest: the baying of hounds driving him to bolting, and he, crashing through a shrine built of stones instead of through the underbrush to a nebulous safety, treed.
Wei Wuxian didn't look down to study his paws. Movement was easier when he didn't think about it, when the motion carried him by intent, when he saw the world from lower down, the place from which he'd crawled in darker, more haunted forests, only to be here now, in a village that tasted foreign on his tongue, read nuanced in difference to his far from indifferent nose.
He heard too much with the ears perched upon his black brow, distracted heartbeat to heartbeat by their unnerving twitching movement, centring and recentring on exhalations and scuffs and drags of claw on hardpacked ground. A tail that twitched to similar nerves, and he stood as any fox, tall in his shadows and slinking in the bright light further from safety, to see to his daily deeds.
He carried stones plucked from erstwhile streambeds held delicate between white-yellow teeth, canines visible, tongue deep pink and heavy in his mouth behind them. Wet or dry, less important than the smoothed nature of the rock, beautifully flecked by saliva by the time his journey culminates on a forest knoll, by the shattered structure of a familiar formed shrine. Help, hinder, stare on in silent question: but you found him in these circumstances, so what have you done?
He slipped to your side, silent but for the pad of a paw on the dirt, meant to echo. There were tasks set to them all, but he must stay close, borrow on the certainty of human form to hold canine and suspicion at arms length. His head turned upward, narrow muzzle pointed toward the face of his current companion, before he canted it, giving them a quizzical expression. Where were they off to now? Though he will not accept the discussion of it, his nose now married a sense of purpose to discovery, but it waited on the arrival of his protector, whomever it might be, for them to set off in quest of answers to the questions posed by their hosts, and by themselves. (To all, to any, who wish for a fox-companion in their questing in those days following the induction of the group into the village by awful drunken brew.)
( ooc: honestly these are two setups for run-ins above, but you can tag me in with anywhere in village and even have wei wuxian treed because he'll learn fast that foxes can climb and DOGS CANNOT THANK YOU WORLD FOR THAT BEING CONSISTENT. so wildcard a location/starter at will, if you want! or hit me up on DM or PM to set up a starter for us. )
WHEN: The week or two following the drinking of village curse-juice and forest capers.
WHERE: Ke-Waihu.
WHAT: Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng managed to knock over a shrine; the local shrine occupant took offense. Now they're temporarily foxes until they finish rebuilding the shrine over the next week (or two). Encounter him as a fox! Work with him while he's a fox. Stare at him wondering what the fox happened.
WARNINGS: Wei Wuxian is deeply, intractably afraid of dogs, and it is likely to come up in narrative, along with the particulars of what he does not like about dogs and/or envisions them doing.
He took no delight in his shifted circumstances, the luck of it all horrid and wrapped up in its own jest: the baying of hounds driving him to bolting, and he, crashing through a shrine built of stones instead of through the underbrush to a nebulous safety, treed.
Wei Wuxian didn't look down to study his paws. Movement was easier when he didn't think about it, when the motion carried him by intent, when he saw the world from lower down, the place from which he'd crawled in darker, more haunted forests, only to be here now, in a village that tasted foreign on his tongue, read nuanced in difference to his far from indifferent nose.
He heard too much with the ears perched upon his black brow, distracted heartbeat to heartbeat by their unnerving twitching movement, centring and recentring on exhalations and scuffs and drags of claw on hardpacked ground. A tail that twitched to similar nerves, and he stood as any fox, tall in his shadows and slinking in the bright light further from safety, to see to his daily deeds.
He carried stones plucked from erstwhile streambeds held delicate between white-yellow teeth, canines visible, tongue deep pink and heavy in his mouth behind them. Wet or dry, less important than the smoothed nature of the rock, beautifully flecked by saliva by the time his journey culminates on a forest knoll, by the shattered structure of a familiar formed shrine. Help, hinder, stare on in silent question: but you found him in these circumstances, so what have you done?
He slipped to your side, silent but for the pad of a paw on the dirt, meant to echo. There were tasks set to them all, but he must stay close, borrow on the certainty of human form to hold canine and suspicion at arms length. His head turned upward, narrow muzzle pointed toward the face of his current companion, before he canted it, giving them a quizzical expression. Where were they off to now? Though he will not accept the discussion of it, his nose now married a sense of purpose to discovery, but it waited on the arrival of his protector, whomever it might be, for them to set off in quest of answers to the questions posed by their hosts, and by themselves. (To all, to any, who wish for a fox-companion in their questing in those days following the induction of the group into the village by awful drunken brew.)
( ooc: honestly these are two setups for run-ins above, but you can tag me in with anywhere in village and even have wei wuxian treed because he'll learn fast that foxes can climb and DOGS CANNOT THANK YOU WORLD FOR THAT BEING CONSISTENT. so wildcard a location/starter at will, if you want! or hit me up on DM or PM to set up a starter for us. )
oh no, mom....
When the scraping on the door comes, he hears it easily, and rubs his eyes which have been straining oddly for him to see. His cultivation is not low, so he should not have trouble with eyesight, and yet ... he finds he has been relying a little on the additional sensations that said cultivation grants him to augment the lack of ... crispness in his sight.
So when he opens the door of the windmill, the gentle, are you hungry? that he would have greeted an animal with fades from his lips, and he tilts his head, the familiar, if faint, presence coming from a fox startling him.
He hesitates, then, softly asks instead, "are you in some way connected with Senior Wei?"
It does not make much sense, what with foxes being canine enough that Sizhui doesn't think Senior Wei would much care for them, but it is the only question that he can think of that makes any amount of sense.
mom's having A Week, sonshine
He nods, makes the movement slow and exaggerated, to demonstrate it's lack of incidental occurrence. He lifts a paw, then pauses, takes a moment to sit with his tail curling around his feet by its own volition, none of his own, then holds up both front paws, balancing awkwardly. He dips his long, narrow snouted nose in toward his chest, unsure that the gesture would read as anything in particular, let alone, Senior Wei is me.
Cursed into a form dogs hated as much as he hated dogs. He's aware of the cosmic cruelty of it. He also rather hates it, as he continues to refuse to make a sound.
oh NO poor mom
Then he shrugs slightly to himself and holds out his arms to the fox who is, clearly, far too-human acting to be only a fox. And with what he has already sensed, it is something he thinks makes sense. Somehow.
no subject
It didn't occur to him to leap into Sizhui's arms without the bray of a hound behind him, or, at least in this moment, man meets fox, fox meets man, and dark eyes don't look away from dark eyes.
Then a dog does bark, the lazy call out of acknowledgement to another warm body moving through the morning mists, and Wei Wuxian launches himself forward, eyes widened, panicked, into Sizhui's chest.
no subject
"I will not let them get to you. Mmm..." He hesitates, but then goes on, just as gently. "I would just carry you inside but I think you might need a bath before that's allowed."
Sorry, mom, but you kind of smell.
no subject
Take him away to a bath, son, he's trusting you can help get the mud and crud out of his fur, while not making him feel any more canine than he already feels. Fox or not, it's all canine enough to him. He rather distinctly hates it! (Though he has to admit, his own scent is different in this form, so wet canine has a different weight when one is the wet canine involved.)
no subject
Which he will do indoors, even if it is in the shed of the mill.
"I am closing the door so you know no dogs will come in, no matter what."
If anyone finds it strange that he is talking to the fox, well, he will explain. But he's unlikely to stop.
no subject
He's a fox right now. He's not a cultivator. Somehow, that's more disconcerting the more it settles on him, as if the last vestige of his tenuous relationship with their entire framework of reality has been wrested away entirely.
Wei Wuxian shudders there, where he sits, and says nothing.