A slow, deliberate motion. A man forged in war sinking down into the dust like he had all the time in the world for this one child.
Feng Jiai cried. "Quinlan! Stand back up, you're terrifying enough already! She's going to think you're here to eat her!"
He didn't listen to her one bit.
"She's not afraid of me," he said softly, not taking his eyes off the girl. "She's afraid of what she lost."
"…You're still looking like a demon from a nightmare…" Feng muttered, but stayed back.
Quinlan loosened the ties of his bloodstained upper robe and let it slip down from his shoulders, exposing bare skin marred with the weak but visible glow of meridian lines beneath. Without the gore, without the trappings of death, he looked… human again.
He met the girl's eyes gently.
"My name is Quinlan. I have a little girl, too. She's a bit younger than you, and you know what she does whenever she learns that I got hurt?"
The girl sniffled, confused, rubbing her eyes. "…W-what?"
