Lan Zhan hadn't come home, which isn't exactly a surprise with how tensions and energies have been since the hunts began. That he finds himself tensing for the sounds of canines while he also traverses the higher landscape of the trees in search is... a matter of need. He's not a man to stay still, and Lan Zhan has had his fangs tipped, not pulled.

This time, he has his water ready, figuring it might sober his husband up just enough to slow down his pursuits if he had it straight to his face. Some would get in his mouth, wouldn't it? Was it the presence of water on a person or within them that worked to such advantage?

Idle thoughts pulled to points of consideration, as he waits, eyes studying the world around, for a hint of a familiar face passing by. If not his husband's, than another of their ragtag group of misfits, murderers, and heroes.