( here, the warmth settles into something lingering, the embers of a fire that burns long after the logs that boasted greater flame have banked to ashen silence. )

A number of us from our home world, of different times. My son, my husband, my brother, my sister-at-heart, my martial uncle. I've been blessed in numbers, if this is a blessing to be brought here, but likewise cursed in our luck—for most of us, to go home would be preferred, and we have not managed it in near two years.

( Certainly... certainly met his spouse. Lan Wangji carries his own blade-sharp weight around, for that caring, large, and awkward heart. )