prologue | chen [how the wind died; or, as it is written...]
Dawn.
Or… at least, morning-ish. His head was aching, his legs, like gelatin- whatever had happened to this man, he was not prepared to deal with the aftermath.
Most of him assumed that this was merely the remains of what had to have been an eventful evening. Before he recalled… Hope’s Peak. Something… Right? (But what happened after that?)
And then his eyes snapped open. He was on the ground. In the dirt. One delicately gloved hand pressed to the ground, and the other followed in suit, pushing the small man into a sitting position on his knees.
And there… Was… the……… .big thing.
“…”
Well. That was unsettling. A hulking monochrome beast of legend comes walking up with an ax easily bigger than himself–
(Okay, Chen. This is it. Your final moments. Make them worth it. Think of something clever to say so this big thing never– wait, what’s that about–? Others?)
The rumors were true! Other people were, in fact, lazing about nearby as he had been. good lord. He looked from one person to another, grimacing at the sight. People. Disgusting.
Or… something like that.
As soon as the beast left, he took it upon himself to dust off his thighs, having been face down previously in the dirt… so, better to wipe off the remains and pretend he hadn’t been lying down at all.
“Well. This is… captivating.”
