[ Later, a corpse at his feet and its bile lathering claws, and Wangji's coiled, false cord a slithered rag in his hands, dragging — he hunts Five again. An easy chase, spoiled by his prey's generosity: Five bleeds to indicate his path. And Lan Wangji, who has never refused chaos, but sought it, cuts through woods and shrubs and lattice of vine, jumps past fern and hard-cut stone.
He sees the lake before his prey, laughs with ginseng-bitter impunity. Waters disperse scent, a natural enemy of the attraction that courses wind in his hair, blood spattered on his hands. Revulsed of his own instinct, he thinks to see his face and spit until the waters tremble and break, and their silence is closed.
But then, there is Five, bowed over, no doubt negotiating ablutions to camouflage himself for the second leg of his chase. A fool. More so for the delusion that he can avoid the fate Lan Wangji would put before him. Slick under both feet and the raw, weedy damp of rotting greens — when he bends, it's to collect the start of wetted sand, to roll it in his fists, then throw it at Five's back, and in his face as powder, should the boy turn.
feel free to let him plunge alone in water, he deserves it
He sees the lake before his prey, laughs with ginseng-bitter impunity. Waters disperse scent, a natural enemy of the attraction that courses wind in his hair, blood spattered on his hands. Revulsed of his own instinct, he thinks to see his face and spit until the waters tremble and break, and their silence is closed.
But then, there is Five, bowed over, no doubt negotiating ablutions to camouflage himself for the second leg of his chase. A fool. More so for the delusion that he can avoid the fate Lan Wangji would put before him. Slick under both feet and the raw, weedy damp of rotting greens — when he bends, it's to collect the start of wetted sand, to roll it in his fists, then throw it at Five's back, and in his face as powder, should the boy turn.
Then, he plunges again. ]