"You speak as no other," he murmurs, awed if not aggrieved, owing the coin of his patience for every turn when others have found Lan Wangji's manner lacking, his spoken word curt, obscure, at fault.
Words align in Cato's mouth like ducks in their row, and yet Lan Wangji witnesses them as if they were the very Beastmaster's creatures: tenuously distorted, strange.
...but for the reminder that there are ample, well-fattened, studious foxes that surround him alongside rows and rows and pillars of stone and false shrines, Lan Wangji might yet consider it the day's greatest oddity. Wind flickers through his hair, whispers him no secrets. He grits his teeth once.
"Each shrine's stone must be tried for engraving."
...only dozens of them, and the unblinking, waiting foxes watch.
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Words align in Cato's mouth like ducks in their row, and yet Lan Wangji witnesses them as if they were the very Beastmaster's creatures: tenuously distorted, strange.
...but for the reminder that there are ample, well-fattened, studious foxes that surround him alongside rows and rows and pillars of stone and false shrines, Lan Wangji might yet consider it the day's greatest oddity. Wind flickers through his hair, whispers him no secrets. He grits his teeth once.
"Each shrine's stone must be tried for engraving."
...only dozens of them, and the unblinking, waiting foxes watch.