In the great and twisting series of unfortunate events that has come to colour Lan Wangji's existence, he did not adequately prepare for this interlude of great feline espionage. As ever, his training — successful in tournaments, exceptional in exorcism, diligent at war — proves woefully lacking.
Broom in hand, Lan Wangji accepts his part in the inn's games with fractional enthusiasm and a majority of stupor: Just keep the beasts out of the guests' way. He wronged the inn, to assume, rats were at play. Then, squirrels. Then, bats in the winding corridors of the attic. Instead, he is quick to learn, the grounds have been assailed by stray, miscreant, sprawling, well-fattened, ungainly... cats. Worse, cats so convinced of their natural sovereignty that they hardly squirm or recoil when they find themselves on the receiving end of human attention.
Earlier, extracting one from the springs' road required the shameful use of bribes, a generous cut of thick, braised fatty ham from the morning's stew. Now, Lan Wangji sleuths the cause behind a sudden feline aggregation within the household, lines and processions of cats drunk on the wafts of sedative incense trickling in through windows, holes in nooks and ill-shuttered doors in crannies.
It has been the crowning realisation of Lan Wangji's exorcism profession that all roads lead to bones.
...or Bones.
When he dashes into the final room on the unhurried, honeyed steps of another cat, only to find eight of them by the door, eyeing Bones with unusual predatory appetite from a respectful distance. Lan Wangji assumes, they think the man weak. On his death's bed (again). Easy prey.
Then, between blinks of blinding braziers, he spies the legion of scattered warmers, happy in their porcelain homes. And suddenly, Lan Wangji knows why the cats are so intent.
He does not groan. A disgrace of sound, like hope in humanity, is for other people. )
Felicitations. ( This, in the Heavens' most unflinching monotone: ) Fresh patients and admirers greet you.
( ...surely, a doctor should welcome the growth in popularity enjoyed by his practice, even among feline kind. )
i made it worse
( Cats lead him.
In the great and twisting series of unfortunate events that has come to colour Lan Wangji's existence, he did not adequately prepare for this interlude of great feline espionage. As ever, his training — successful in tournaments, exceptional in exorcism, diligent at war — proves woefully lacking.
Broom in hand, Lan Wangji accepts his part in the inn's games with fractional enthusiasm and a majority of stupor: Just keep the beasts out of the guests' way. He wronged the inn, to assume, rats were at play. Then, squirrels. Then, bats in the winding corridors of the attic. Instead, he is quick to learn, the grounds have been assailed by stray, miscreant, sprawling, well-fattened, ungainly... cats. Worse, cats so convinced of their natural sovereignty that they hardly squirm or recoil when they find themselves on the receiving end of human attention.
Earlier, extracting one from the springs' road required the shameful use of bribes, a generous cut of thick, braised fatty ham from the morning's stew. Now, Lan Wangji sleuths the cause behind a sudden feline aggregation within the household, lines and processions of cats drunk on the wafts of sedative incense trickling in through windows, holes in nooks and ill-shuttered doors in crannies.
It has been the crowning realisation of Lan Wangji's exorcism profession that all roads lead to bones.
...or Bones.
When he dashes into the final room on the unhurried, honeyed steps of another cat, only to find eight of them by the door, eyeing Bones with unusual predatory appetite from a respectful distance. Lan Wangji assumes, they think the man weak. On his death's bed (again). Easy prey.
Then, between blinks of blinding braziers, he spies the legion of scattered warmers, happy in their porcelain homes. And suddenly, Lan Wangji knows why the cats are so intent.
He does not groan. A disgrace of sound, like hope in humanity, is for other people. )
Felicitations. ( This, in the Heavens' most unflinching monotone: ) Fresh patients and admirers greet you.
( ...surely, a doctor should welcome the growth in popularity enjoyed by his practice, even among feline kind. )