( Oh ye of little, Wen-bound faith. He does not attempt to discipline his most volatile of companions, does not corral or coax him. Instead, brows pinched north-wise, he looks on incredulously as Wen Kexing takes on magic previously unseen and capitulates, waiting —

For the inevitable.

Yes, the creature makes fast attempt to move. Yes, Wen Kexing pulls back. Yes, it is all some shade of profound predictability. His smile is only the corners of his mouth, sweetened.

Then, politely, he summons a pierce of parchment like bound spiders' webs, nearly threadbare — hard times, scant resources. The clan would be shamed by such resourcing, Wei Ying glad of his practicality. )

What talents past your... ( Mouthing. ) Bloodlust?