( He watches all of this curiously, idly pulling the fan from his sleeve to tap a beat against his hip. The hand keeps rearing back, and Wen Kexing's expression remains impassive. And yet he isn't surprised when it jolts forward as if to lunge itself Anduin's way. He's faster, rapping the knuckles with the wooden edge of his fan so that it falls back inside the box. )
It isn't afraid, I don't think. More ... angry? Not that I can blame it, it's missing a body for one.
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It isn't afraid, I don't think. More ... angry? Not that I can blame it, it's missing a body for one.