( It burns his mouth, dries it: the cutting, cauterizing reality that he must inflict like plague upon Wen Kexing. Not for the first time, he wishes himself a different man, a shield sooner than a blade — one who could master the art of deceit to sufficient aptitude that Wen Kexing may now be spared.
The creature looms, stalwart, derisive. Taunting, in ways that Lan Wangji finds himself splintering Bichen from her sheath to disrupt. Her blade hisses cold violence. He does not yet aim her, only sketches out a circle when Wen Kexing sends out and receives back his fan.
They cannot struggle against this spectre, who does not so much as reach for them, yet, for all Lan Wangji spies strength and cunning in the catch and latch of his hands, for all there is a brimming red of anticipation to each of its movements. This corridor is too small, once more. )
Leave. ( Perhaps to the creature. More likely, to Wen Kexing. ) You do not aid. It seeks your — ( And he listens. ) Pain.
no subject
( It burns his mouth, dries it: the cutting, cauterizing reality that he must inflict like plague upon Wen Kexing. Not for the first time, he wishes himself a different man, a shield sooner than a blade — one who could master the art of deceit to sufficient aptitude that Wen Kexing may now be spared.
The creature looms, stalwart, derisive. Taunting, in ways that Lan Wangji finds himself splintering Bichen from her sheath to disrupt. Her blade hisses cold violence. He does not yet aim her, only sketches out a circle when Wen Kexing sends out and receives back his fan.
They cannot struggle against this spectre, who does not so much as reach for them, yet, for all Lan Wangji spies strength and cunning in the catch and latch of his hands, for all there is a brimming red of anticipation to each of its movements. This corridor is too small, once more. )
Leave. ( Perhaps to the creature. More likely, to Wen Kexing. ) You do not aid. It seeks your — ( And he listens. ) Pain.