( Memories slip like the beads from his hands, as deliberately let go as the ones that Lan Zhan catches in his carved and capable hands. He hums answer noncommital, leaning as he does, a weight at Lan Zhan's shoulder, looking down to the spill of beads. Not looking toward the entrance of their cave, this place deemed holy far before their arrival, somehow still unprofaned by their lingering.
Lan Zhan speaks, and the words are a wound to his heart, the intake of a breath that tells, more than he ever has, what he still hasn't allowed himself the easy mourning of. Is he allowed? He still wonders. Has knelt before their tablets and been chased from Yunmeng after, ask for the sake of his brother in this place, still walking on pebbled robes of shifting stability after.
His head tilts forward, hair falling off shoulders, a waterfall to hide and live within, without his hair knot to help keep some of the mass of it back. )
There always will be. Asking for more blood won't stop those wounds from scarring. Nothing brings back the past, excepting the curse of this place and they relive what's already happened again and again, ah? Should I?
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Lan Zhan speaks, and the words are a wound to his heart, the intake of a breath that tells, more than he ever has, what he still hasn't allowed himself the easy mourning of. Is he allowed? He still wonders. Has knelt before their tablets and been chased from Yunmeng after, ask for the sake of his brother in this place, still walking on pebbled robes of shifting stability after.
His head tilts forward, hair falling off shoulders, a waterfall to hide and live within, without his hair knot to help keep some of the mass of it back. )
There always will be. Asking for more blood won't stop those wounds from scarring. Nothing brings back the past, excepting the curse of this place and they relive what's already happened again and again, ah? Should I?