[ The wound stitches itself, muscle and bone and skins to dress the whole. A doll of flesh and leathery binds, and Lan Wangji plays with it in careful geometries of studied arrangements: nudge of the dragon's leg here, push of its claws, the final positioning of the paw so strain circulates away from the ankle, and the forked paw slides on ground like a limp beam, flattened.
Beneath talons, a thick slick of bloodied black water. The surge of it, under glimmers of pressure, like festered puss from battle wounds. When Lan Wangji's dark robes trip on filth so he can catch rivulets, they hiss in strong pour on the back of his hand, tumble down his knuckles — and seep on the dragon's leg, redirected.
Heal, exorcise harm. The sound of strange, thralled rejuvenation hingeing open malady. ]
I pursued. [ A confession by any other name, lungs cleaving. His breath cuts and claws and grieves him. ] Earned shame unto my name.
[ Unto the clan, the precepts. No matter. All guilt vocalised is a matter of sycophancy before the heavens. No man will be moved. ]
no subject
Beneath talons, a thick slick of bloodied black water. The surge of it, under glimmers of pressure, like festered puss from battle wounds. When Lan Wangji's dark robes trip on filth so he can catch rivulets, they hiss in strong pour on the back of his hand, tumble down his knuckles — and seep on the dragon's leg, redirected.
Heal, exorcise harm. The sound of strange, thralled rejuvenation hingeing open malady. ]
I pursued. [ A confession by any other name, lungs cleaving. His breath cuts and claws and grieves him. ] Earned shame unto my name.
[ Unto the clan, the precepts. No matter. All guilt vocalised is a matter of sycophancy before the heavens. No man will be moved. ]
You came of the mountain?