( Self-defence against men who lived their flower days before Lan Wangji was an abstract thought in his mother's girlhood. Yes. These are the men who require their violence, crowned by a crone who reaches for Wangji — negotiates purchase on his arm that juggles the perched bird — and clings there with sepulchral horror that, her target now secure, she is at a loss for how to proceed, what to do with him and, possibly, how she arrived to her circumstances to start with.
These, then, are the legions they confront with impunity. Careful, oh so ruinously careful, step purposefully slowed, Wangji recedes amid attempts to shrug off his pursuer, the woman collapsing in a clatter of rusted bones, her nails reaching claw-like into the distance.
Well, then. Lan Wangji cannot suspend care for the raven long enough to risk approaching her. Then, that leaves... Kanesada, spared the cut of an even glance: )
Before. Righten her.
( For heavens' sake, man, battle is no excuse to be so unfilial. )
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These, then, are the legions they confront with impunity. Careful, oh so ruinously careful, step purposefully slowed, Wangji recedes amid attempts to shrug off his pursuer, the woman collapsing in a clatter of rusted bones, her nails reaching claw-like into the distance.
Well, then. Lan Wangji cannot suspend care for the raven long enough to risk approaching her. Then, that leaves... Kanesada, spared the cut of an even glance: )
Before. Righten her.
( For heavens' sake, man, battle is no excuse to be so unfilial. )