Wei Wuxian (
acrookedpath) wrote2021-07-08 12:04 pm
[pfsb] it's so FLUFFY
In Wei Wuxian's defense, it isn't as if he forgot one should never eat free food unless it came from Madam Bar or the waitrats. It's simply that after nearly a year where he has -- only on occasion, mind you! -- accepted food and drink from strangers with no ill effects, he may have let his guard slip. Just a little.
Besides, he was so absorbed in his work that for all he knew, a waitrat had deposited the little bowl of animal-shaped desserts on his table. It wouldn't have been the first time he failed to notice one of them trying to get his attention.
So when he absently picked up a cracker to nibble on it as he worked through a particularly thorny set of talisman calculations --
Well.
The little black rabbit that now sits on the table, a red ribbon looped around one ear, just wants it emphatically known that this was not his fault.
Besides, he was so absorbed in his work that for all he knew, a waitrat had deposited the little bowl of animal-shaped desserts on his table. It wouldn't have been the first time he failed to notice one of them trying to get his attention.
So when he absently picked up a cracker to nibble on it as he worked through a particularly thorny set of talisman calculations --
Well.
The little black rabbit that now sits on the table, a red ribbon looped around one ear, just wants it emphatically known that this was not his fault.

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As generous as Madam Bar was, it does not take very much to fill a rabbit stomach. Several more peppers, berries, and leaves later, Wei Wuxian sits back to groom himself again, rubbing his paws over his whole face with surprising fastidiousness. Only when that is done does he hop back to the animal crackers.
...and, with surprising abruptness, flop on his side in a contented sprawl.
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“Such a good bunny.”
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Actually, that does sound like fun. Imagine how they would react to one of their human friends suddenly becoming a rabbit! Perhaps he will write as much with an inky paw in one moment.
After Lan Zhan is finished petting him, of course.
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How are you so good at everything? he demands with another tiny rabbit laugh. Even this? Lan Zhan, the rabbits of Gusu Lan must adore you! I will send you back with a camera and you will take photos for me, won't you?
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“You like that,” he observes. “I am glad.”
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When Lan Zhan's hand next settles on his forehead, Wei Wuxian tips his head back enough to lick his palm.
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“Shall we ask Madam Bar if she has any insight?”
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With one more nod, Wei Wuxian heaves himself to his feet and waddles closer to Lan Zhan, ready to be scooped into his robes once more.
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So, though he blinks sleepily as they make their way across the common room, and he cannot help but let out a tiny bunny yawn, he points both ears forward, letting the cacophony of the inn keep him alert in their short journey.
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“Madam Bar,” he asks. “Do you know anything about animal shaped cookies that curse the one who eats of them with transformation?”
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Someone left those out again?! says the writing beneath it. I'm so sorry, Lan Wangji. Yes, one of our tricksters likes to leave those animal crackers around sometimes, but the curse doesn't last long. Twenty-four hours at most.
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Attached to the note is a tiny ballpoint pen, so small it could easily be held in a rabbit's mouth, and a pad of paper. Wei Wuxian's ears flick in interest as he leans forward.
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Which trickster? he writes.
Or... tries to write. Hopefully, by now, Lan Zhan has gotten good enough at deciphering Wei Wuxian's already-terrible handwriting to figure out the gist.
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Loki. Well, one of the Lokis. The alligator one. You'll know him by the golden horns.
Lan Wangji reads this out and stares at the words in bemusement, as if they might make sense if he does so hard enough.
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Wei Wuxian glances at Lan Zhan and gives him a tiny bunny shrug.
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"Very well," he tells Madam Bar. "Thank you, again."
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Mostly, it just looks like he drapes himself a little further over the side of Lan Zhan's arm. But he tries!
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He settles there, spreading his robes over his lap, and lowers his hand enough that Wei Ying can stir from his nest if he wishes.
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After a moment, he grasps the pad of paper between his teeth to drag it down into the nest as well. The pen quickly joins it.
I am all right, he writes; adds a little smiley face to the end like Madam Bar's.
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