The poor creature.. So ridden down by the spirit that had brought him here to be mostly dead by the time he was found. Bailu made a mental note to pray for him later, before the thought arrived that perhaps there was no gods to pray to anyway. The Dragon may not even hear her pleas.

Her mouth screwed into a sharp line, but she was unrepentant. She didn’t let her fears slip into her eyes, or even to twitch her mouth beyond its frown. She stared out over the bog instead, watching the waves ripple at the edges of the stonework with a furrow in her brow.

Well, I cannot say for certain. The gardeners had such stories when you were young. She arched a teasing brow her son’s way, only to halt at his words. Perhaps a younger Bailu would have been more offended at the proclamation of the epithet, but she only allowed herself an eye roll. She had never taken the time to ask if she had truly loved Shen’s father, and it was far too late now. She was well past her marrying age, she noted to herself as she sauntered past her boy, flicking his nose with her tail in a measured thwap.

My dear boy, it would not be the ancestors who would haunt you. It would be me, and I have many more teeth. She picked her way towards the stones he had indicated, raising her head to look over her shoulder at him.

Are you coming? You must introduce me. It wouldn’t do to not know everyone her son had acquainted in their brief time apart.