Storm's speed, roiling. The creatures that man the cart answer to no force or impulse Lan Wangji can name, likeness smeared to harken horses, their make adjusted. Metal, on rare, ill-brokered step, when Lan Wangji negotiates pace with the horsecar.
The hunt of it consumes him, crawls ache up his legs, burns his lungs. When he lounges, inevitably, to spider on the side of a cart, clutching it with worn hands, scowling when idle road stones strike the length of the wagons, drifting from beneath horse hooves —
It's to find the window close, the cart lived, the passenger... distresed in ways Lan Wangji exacerbates, slinging an arm through the opening, anchoring himself to raise himself up, starting to crawl in like insects under foot.
"Open path," he hisses out, stab of Bichen's hilt come up to graze and torture glass, beat once, and again, and it shatters.
A proud guest unto any house, our Hanguang-Jun. Abd bright, wilder-eyed, for glimpsing undead among the passenger.
Under his breath, to the anguished man, "You brought the dead?"
train tragedy
The hunt of it consumes him, crawls ache up his legs, burns his lungs. When he lounges, inevitably, to spider on the side of a cart, clutching it with worn hands, scowling when idle road stones strike the length of the wagons, drifting from beneath horse hooves —
It's to find the window close, the cart lived, the passenger... distresed in ways Lan Wangji exacerbates, slinging an arm through the opening, anchoring himself to raise himself up, starting to crawl in like insects under foot.
"Open path," he hisses out, stab of Bichen's hilt come up to graze and torture glass, beat once, and again, and it shatters.
A proud guest unto any house, our Hanguang-Jun. Abd bright, wilder-eyed, for glimpsing undead among the passenger.
Under his breath, to the anguished man, "You brought the dead?"