Wei Wuxian crawled forward, blinking eyelids, then eyelids again, as he traversed his husband to the edge of his lapel, crawling out, over, finding the lack of neck meant he couldn't turn his head like his natural inclination instructs. One eye alone judges distance well, and he finds, to his surprise, that the difficulty of some close focus he'd been suffering and presuming to be the way of life for the toads of the world proves clarity inducing with distance.
He blinks two sets of eyelids again, sticking toes spread, lifting up on his front legs and shifting himself to the right, to the left. Taking in the surprising array of what he can see, the shapes, the colours, the stronger inclination toward blues and greens he had not seen with his human eyes looking upon these waters.
He inhales sharply, the airsack of his throat inflating and wheezing out a grumbling sigh when his mouth opens, all unintentional. He swipes a foot at his face, dragging it over one eye, pushing it down, foot sliding further and off his nose, eye opening again without pause.
"My leap or yours?" He asks, because he has to ask something, before he responds, "Five. One to your left at the shore, on top of several dead leaves, another to your far right, near shore and peering above the water. The loud one is further back on a log thrust up out of the water, on the second branch above the water, curved to the left and spread like fingers on an ancient hand."
The questing guoguo, the craoking, the quiet kero of Lan Zhan's chorus of admirers in miniature, one more frog, smooth backed to the pebbling of Wei Wuxian's own, swimming closer, head breaking the surface to be nearest to the curious sounds of Lan Zhan's making.
A ribbit that matches a creature fifteen times its size emerges, rolls through them both, chest rattling. Wei Wuxian pushes himself up higher with his front legs, then some with his back, as if poised to leap — yet he would not leap.
That one, he knows with the surety of a man who know very little about these specific frogs and toads, but very much about general behaviours of animals similar to these, that one would swallow him whole.
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Wei Wuxian crawled forward, blinking eyelids, then eyelids again, as he traversed his husband to the edge of his lapel, crawling out, over, finding the lack of neck meant he couldn't turn his head like his natural inclination instructs. One eye alone judges distance well, and he finds, to his surprise, that the difficulty of some close focus he'd been suffering and presuming to be the way of life for the toads of the world proves clarity inducing with distance.
He blinks two sets of eyelids again, sticking toes spread, lifting up on his front legs and shifting himself to the right, to the left. Taking in the surprising array of what he can see, the shapes, the colours, the stronger inclination toward blues and greens he had not seen with his human eyes looking upon these waters.
He inhales sharply, the airsack of his throat inflating and wheezing out a grumbling sigh when his mouth opens, all unintentional. He swipes a foot at his face, dragging it over one eye, pushing it down, foot sliding further and off his nose, eye opening again without pause.
"My leap or yours?" He asks, because he has to ask something, before he responds, "Five. One to your left at the shore, on top of several dead leaves, another to your far right, near shore and peering above the water. The loud one is further back on a log thrust up out of the water, on the second branch above the water, curved to the left and spread like fingers on an ancient hand."
The questing guoguo, the craoking, the quiet kero of Lan Zhan's chorus of admirers in miniature, one more frog, smooth backed to the pebbling of Wei Wuxian's own, swimming closer, head breaking the surface to be nearest to the curious sounds of Lan Zhan's making.
A ribbit that matches a creature fifteen times its size emerges, rolls through them both, chest rattling. Wei Wuxian pushes himself up higher with his front legs, then some with his back, as if poised to leap — yet he would not leap.
That one, he knows with the surety of a man who know very little about these specific frogs and toads, but very much about general behaviours of animals similar to these, that one would swallow him whole.