[ He knows, instinctively, the way of it: how the arrival of these creatures within the village boundaries forces their party in retreat, how they struggle to negotiate peace and stability. At the very least, an end to distress or distraction.

A cure waits for them, if only these animals allow the passage. Sly, Lan Wangji's grip slips to the hilt of his sword, Bichen arrested in hibernation, her fetters a tight noose. Temptation tickles his grip strong.

Once more, he lets her sleep. Allow first for negotiation.

The bun, then. ]

The Beastmaster holds sway over his creatures, perverted. [ Lily, and Wangji's innards soured and coiling cold, recalling her absence — and her companion, Slick. ] Over the dead, or they who master them.

[ The stern mouthed lord, Wrath. Wei Ying. If Wrathion is also affected, then he must meet these criteria, or perhaps some new. A necromancer? Although Lan Wangji had never suspected, there is an artless raw quality to the man, an unfinished, sensation. It would suit.

With a sigh half self-flagellating, he holds out his hand. ]

I may coax them with the feeding. [ If one of the two must risk his hand, better it be Lan Wangji, armed with instincts honed over years of sword mastery. ]