Feng MuLing

T/W: some blood and wounds

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"What is happening?" LiangLin whispered as Zhou lowered the body wrapped in a white cloth down on the platform with his wind spell. The blackened liquid had oozed from the scorched and cracked body, seeping through the layers of the fabric.

Burned bony fingers peaked from beneath the covers, and LiangLin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fragrance of the sea. Yet, he could still pick up on the faint scent of charred flesh.

He felt sick.

The ship rocked gently from side to side, and the deck shifted beneath his feet. LiangLin reached out and clung to the railings, his nails digging into the wood.

"Boss! Are you ok?"

Tao's squeaky voice irritated his ears, the hands that reached out to cling to his shoulders felt invasive, but LiangLin couldn't let go of his only support, or he would crumble - and he didn't know if he could pick himself back up again.