[ There is — red between them. Scant metallic, raw, strong. Like shrapnel of steel, when forges give the last cut and friction-led sharpening to a fresh blade, when it sheds the last of her youthful skins to powder.
Prey has no weapons, he knows on a level indistinct from the churning of his belly, the great and yawning abyss where his core should sit, but does not turn. Prey only waits.
And Lan Wangji knows, in ways human, that there is a difference between them — between Lan Wangji and this half-man who is nothing, this elder who barely sums pairs of skins on diminutive bones, this morsel that sets his mouth to drool but won't satisfy a long chew. They are not alike. Violence pours in Wangji's veins, molten. He shudders with it, flinches back from the first assault and bares his dull teeth, tip of his tongue dancing the corners, wondering, suppose they were longer, suppose they could catch and pierce bone.
Absent his energy, his weapon, he has only the noose, and seasoned instincts: himself, darting back and nearly loosing his footing, before twisting the silk in a spun cord and wrapping it around his wrist for anchoring, then seeking to knot it around Five's arm when he dips in, to make use of his momentum and steer him to the right. ]
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Prey has no weapons, he knows on a level indistinct from the churning of his belly, the great and yawning abyss where his core should sit, but does not turn. Prey only waits.
And Lan Wangji knows, in ways human, that there is a difference between them — between Lan Wangji and this half-man who is nothing, this elder who barely sums pairs of skins on diminutive bones, this morsel that sets his mouth to drool but won't satisfy a long chew. They are not alike. Violence pours in Wangji's veins, molten. He shudders with it, flinches back from the first assault and bares his dull teeth, tip of his tongue dancing the corners, wondering, suppose they were longer, suppose they could catch and pierce bone.
Absent his energy, his weapon, he has only the noose, and seasoned instincts: himself, darting back and nearly loosing his footing, before twisting the silk in a spun cord and wrapping it around his wrist for anchoring, then seeking to knot it around Five's arm when he dips in, to make use of his momentum and steer him to the right. ]
Do not be foolish. [ Yield. ]