Xiao Mo stood off to the side, her blue eyes wide with admiration as she watched Wen Ran. Hidden behind a large tree, his white hair fluttered in the wind, dancing with an almost ethereal grace. His yellow sect robes blended into the chaotic surroundings, but to Xiao Mo, he was like a god who had descended to this war-torn land, his every movement commanding the air around him.
Something stirred within her, an emotion so foreign to her beastly nature that it made her heart ache. She watched him, her paws sinking into the earth, her gaze locked on him as he secretly formed another ice needle. His movements were smooth, deliberate—he was like a predator, stalking the battlefield from the shadows, picking off the weakest of the beasts with lethal precision. The sight of him, the way he moved, made her feel something deep inside, something she couldn't quite understand.
