[ Lan Wangji is fast, but Five is far quicker, and he takes advantage of the time he spends to fight off another predator. Even sparing his jumps to save his energy, a surge of adrenaline propels him forward and he's perfectly agile as he weaves between trees to easily outpace his pursuer.
Whatever overtook him when he entered the forest continues to build momentum. Rational thought drains the moment he sees danger and panic overtakes him far too easily. He alerts to every sign of movement, and every noise is a threat in waiting. Everywhere he lands he can feel eyes tracking him, no matter how silently or swiftly he moves. He reminds himself that it doesn't matter; out maneuvering one man is hardly a challenge. A long shadow still lingers, trailing him with all the determination of the Commission. He couldn't be, but the thought stays with him, and instead of dispatching him, he can only give into the impulse to run, run, run. And it's with that distinct lack of strategy that he finds out too late that he's managed to circle in on himself.
Shit.
Five has always had a remarkable sense of direction, but somehow he ends back where he started. The forest breaks at the path, clear of any cover and leading nowhere he wants to be. More alarming — on his next attempt to teleport, he nearly bounces off of the air itself. Another direction provides the same impossible result. Confounded, he's about to try a third time when he stills at the sound of someone approaching.
He pulls out the knife and readies himself. His intent is to blink behind and disarm him the moment he comes into view, but something feels off almost immediately.
The handle starts to crumble in his grasp, so he tightens his grip on the thin metal wedged inside that cuts painfully into his palm. He ignores the blood that drips from the bandages and waits until he's close, tracking where no invisible walls stand between them and willing his heartbeat to stop hammering so loudly in his chest. When he sees the whites of his eyes, he attempts one more blink and launches himself at him. ]
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Whatever overtook him when he entered the forest continues to build momentum. Rational thought drains the moment he sees danger and panic overtakes him far too easily. He alerts to every sign of movement, and every noise is a threat in waiting. Everywhere he lands he can feel eyes tracking him, no matter how silently or swiftly he moves. He reminds himself that it doesn't matter; out maneuvering one man is hardly a challenge. A long shadow still lingers, trailing him with all the determination of the Commission. He couldn't be, but the thought stays with him, and instead of dispatching him, he can only give into the impulse to run, run, run. And it's with that distinct lack of strategy that he finds out too late that he's managed to circle in on himself.
Shit.
Five has always had a remarkable sense of direction, but somehow he ends back where he started. The forest breaks at the path, clear of any cover and leading nowhere he wants to be. More alarming — on his next attempt to teleport, he nearly bounces off of the air itself. Another direction provides the same impossible result. Confounded, he's about to try a third time when he stills at the sound of someone approaching.
He pulls out the knife and readies himself. His intent is to blink behind and disarm him the moment he comes into view, but something feels off almost immediately.
The handle starts to crumble in his grasp, so he tightens his grip on the thin metal wedged inside that cuts painfully into his palm. He ignores the blood that drips from the bandages and waits until he's close, tracking where no invisible walls stand between them and willing his heartbeat to stop hammering so loudly in his chest. When he sees the whites of his eyes, he attempts one more blink and launches himself at him. ]