"Wrathion," Huaisang repeats carefully. The local language falls easily from his tongue, but there's still a hint of an accent in there, and he struggles especially when it comes to slang or to words that aren't the American English loaded into his mind.
The name means nothing to him, and Huaisang has discarded his own titles and his traditional forms of greeting. Sect Leader Nie Huaisang of Qinghe carries no influence here, and he's supposed to be Mrs. Shurley. The locals only seem to grow confused when he introduces himself as Nie Huaisang, so he's stopped. Huaisang, just Huaisang. No longer bound to the sect he always chafed within.
He misses home so much it aches.
"It's pleasant to meet you," Huaisang says, ducking his head shyly. "You do certainly stand out as ... perhaps not local." As does Huaisang, he knows. He hasn't yet met anyone here who looks like him.
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The name means nothing to him, and Huaisang has discarded his own titles and his traditional forms of greeting. Sect Leader Nie Huaisang of Qinghe carries no influence here, and he's supposed to be Mrs. Shurley. The locals only seem to grow confused when he introduces himself as Nie Huaisang, so he's stopped. Huaisang, just Huaisang. No longer bound to the sect he always chafed within.
He misses home so much it aches.
"It's pleasant to meet you," Huaisang says, ducking his head shyly. "You do certainly stand out as ... perhaps not local." As does Huaisang, he knows. He hasn't yet met anyone here who looks like him.