( Bear with him, Wrathion says, as if Lan Wangji — possessed of rare appreciation for the frost motes that dance on his limbs, the crackling of iced branches underfoot — has ever throughout the maelstrom of their acquaintance deigned to take the vanguard of their conversations. No, no. It is Wrathion who is the storyteller, the fantasy shaper, the bard. Let him speak — and so, Lan Wangji waves away the concern for his patience and calmly, unflinchingly, carries on.
The river's a spread of ice clusters and spumes, unexpectedly rapid despite the frost of the season. He tip-toes by the time they crawl towards the ravines, hesitant to hasten, half descending, half holding himself at bay — )
Do all your tales involve lies and amputation?
( Conversationally, as a matter of cultural exchange, while still permitting the story to carry on. )
Re: Lan Wangji
( Bear with him, Wrathion says, as if Lan Wangji — possessed of rare appreciation for the frost motes that dance on his limbs, the crackling of iced branches underfoot — has ever throughout the maelstrom of their acquaintance deigned to take the vanguard of their conversations. No, no. It is Wrathion who is the storyteller, the fantasy shaper, the bard. Let him speak — and so, Lan Wangji waves away the concern for his patience and calmly, unflinchingly, carries on.
The river's a spread of ice clusters and spumes, unexpectedly rapid despite the frost of the season. He tip-toes by the time they crawl towards the ravines, hesitant to hasten, half descending, half holding himself at bay — )
Do all your tales involve lies and amputation?
( Conversationally, as a matter of cultural exchange, while still permitting the story to carry on. )