( and for the second time in as many days, xiao xingchen wakes from what should almost certainly have been his death. in truth, he wouldn't at all have minded if it were. though he has lost the sharp desperation required to pursue such a thing of his own volition, he's very much prepared to take the daozhang approach and accept what may come, if his injuries take him after all.
but they don't. instead, he slips in and out of semi-consciousness a couple of times over the next few hours.. and then, perhaps an hour after his latest stirring, he slips abruptly into proper consciousness. into a worn-down bed in a musty room - and someone touching his throat. xingchen reacts before he can even quite think, sitting bolt upright with a sharp-drawn breath, one hand flinching up to seize the wrist of the one touching his throat as the other hand feels hastily (and fruitlessly) for frostwork at his side. )
Who is it?( unlike his offer for aid however-many hours ago, this time his voice is sharp and low, perhaps even a little bit haunted. )
no subject
but they don't. instead, he slips in and out of semi-consciousness a couple of times over the next few hours.. and then, perhaps an hour after his latest stirring, he slips abruptly into proper consciousness. into a worn-down bed in a musty room - and someone touching his throat. xingchen reacts before he can even quite think, sitting bolt upright with a sharp-drawn breath, one hand flinching up to seize the wrist of the one touching his throat as the other hand feels hastily (and fruitlessly) for frostwork at his side. )
Who is it? ( unlike his offer for aid however-many hours ago, this time his voice is sharp and low, perhaps even a little bit haunted. )