( Don't worry, and she worries. She wants to listen, too, but the driving urge is to move, is the same fear she'd been sharing with A-Cheng before he'd started trying to push her away, and she'd had to tell him to attempt the impossible and hold on, rally himself while she clung to him with scaled arm and overlarge neck and head. Dragons and rivergods alike, clinging to each other on an ice sheet and both caught up in a worry that they find Wei Wuxian. )

A-Cheng and I are both worried. I just managed to help him calm down, A-Xian—if Wangji's not with you now, if you're lost, can you keep talking to me as you move? Come back to us, please.

( She's trying to listen to his request that isn't really a request right yet: to stay there, to be a homing beacon of a sort, for him to return. Her edge of concern grows all the greater, talons digging into the snow and frozen ground beneath. He must make it back. Not this, again, not on another world. She's not losing either of her brothers. She refuses.

(It's not a logical thought process, exactly, but the feeling that drives it remembers other times, remembers a few weeks before, remembers the world going dark and no longer feeling Jiang Cheng's warmth at her bleeding back.) )

You're not alone out there, and we need you back here. Wangji must be worried too, and I know you're worried for him. You both need to come back to us, okay?