But she comes ever closer, staying her step within hairs' distance of Wrath, and casting a long glance over the man for the final measure. In the end, whatever she sees satisfies her — she turns her back to him, bides moments with the strings and pulls of her robe, and eases it until it tumbles off her shoulders, baring her back to the midriff.
Close to her tailbone, a darkening, spreading mark, like mould — no sharp shape to it, but the vague, distant likeness of a hand's print, perhaps a claw. Should Wrath's talents extend to sensing death, the mark will exude the coldness of that presence, the stench of possession. No demon or spirit chains her flesh.
"For years, this has troubled me. My grandfather's unguents force it to recede, but it keeps returning. The lady Wen Qing has applied herself to my condition. You've encountered the likes of it?"
no subject
But she comes ever closer, staying her step within hairs' distance of Wrath, and casting a long glance over the man for the final measure. In the end, whatever she sees satisfies her — she turns her back to him, bides moments with the strings and pulls of her robe, and eases it until it tumbles off her shoulders, baring her back to the midriff.
Close to her tailbone, a darkening, spreading mark, like mould — no sharp shape to it, but the vague, distant likeness of a hand's print, perhaps a claw. Should Wrath's talents extend to sensing death, the mark will exude the coldness of that presence, the stench of possession. No demon or spirit chains her flesh.
"For years, this has troubled me. My grandfather's unguents force it to recede, but it keeps returning. The lady Wen Qing has applied herself to my condition. You've encountered the likes of it?"