After that the silence that falls over them is comfortable instead of the heavy one from before, and Wei Wuxian exhales into it, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. He won't be sleeping anytime soon, but maybe he'll manage a handful of hours as it gets closer to morning. After a moment, he reaches into his bag and pulls out some talisman drafting notes.
Just because he can't use them here doesn't mean he can't work on them.] Why don't I take first watch? I'm not sleeping for a while either way.
๏ผ he gives wei wuxian a sidelong glance. it's more an assessment than anything, but whatever he sees there is apparently enough that he makes a soft hm of agreement.
and then folds his arms across his chest, adjusting his posture so that his chin dips down against his chest, feet crossed at the ankle. it's not quite the perfect picture of repose, but it's meant to be restful nonetheless. could he stand, and go get the bedroll, and recline in some manner of comfort? yes, but he's rarely been comfortable in the whole of his life. little point in starting now.
he doesn't sleep, exactly, but he does rest. the sound of wei wuxian's pen scratching across the page as he scribbles notes down becomes an almost soothing white noise, the familiarity of it striking a rhythm alongside the steady beat of his heart. ๏ผ
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I'm a man of many talents.
๏ผ he's got layers. like an onion. superpower: making people cry. ๏ผ
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After that the silence that falls over them is comfortable instead of the heavy one from before, and Wei Wuxian exhales into it, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. He won't be sleeping anytime soon, but maybe he'll manage a handful of hours as it gets closer to morning. After a moment, he reaches into his bag and pulls out some talisman drafting notes.
Just because he can't use them here doesn't mean he can't work on them.] Why don't I take first watch? I'm not sleeping for a while either way.
no subject
and then folds his arms across his chest, adjusting his posture so that his chin dips down against his chest, feet crossed at the ankle. it's not quite the perfect picture of repose, but it's meant to be restful nonetheless. could he stand, and go get the bedroll, and recline in some manner of comfort? yes, but he's rarely been comfortable in the whole of his life. little point in starting now.
he doesn't sleep, exactly, but he does rest. the sound of wei wuxian's pen scratching across the page as he scribbles notes down becomes an almost soothing white noise, the familiarity of it striking a rhythm alongside the steady beat of his heart. ๏ผ