Wei lay curled in a large chair, a over stuffed, second hand thing her friends had dragged upstairs for her. She hadn’t left the inn since she’d arrived, well, hadn’t left Westgarde at all, and lately even leaving her room seemed so hard. Even in the evening when everything was quiet in the inn. Every day, a struggle, every decision a trial. Xinlei had been so kind, so patient and calm, when she had spoken of the Emperor and the way of the monk, but Wei’s meditations and her practice had seemed to do nothing to ease her mind.
The pandaren tugged a thick woollen shawl closer around her. Her weight was growing, but she still didn’t have the fat reserves she used to, and the chill still got to her so easily. Working in the heat of Gorgrond had softened her, she thought with a sad little smile. Followed by a sigh, and a sniffle of tears. She was so tired. Tired of everything, of the struggle, of trying to settle her mind…failing. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t, although she tried. The Justicar had spoken wise words and tried to lead her from the Pit, but it was still pulling her back.
Wei looked down at the little doll that lay half finished on a nearby table. It was a pandaren folk hero, not Chen, but the people of the turtle’s founder. She had even started a little turtle for the doll to ride. But only started, because her paws had begun to shake and then she just didn’t have the energy. The gift for the Justicar’s little one. She stroked the soft plush head, and sighed, and tried to pick it up again. Maybe she could stave off the new surge of shadows with a few brightly coloured threads, and get a little further today.