WESSEX
His question makes her her chuckle to herself, amused, because yes, there has been a fair amount of family dramas in her lifetime. “Not strange so much as… interesting. A study on people and their identities.” They could almost do the same, now, and see how things have changed. Or not changed. Is she still proud? Yes. But it’s not because she’s a Theskyra, it’s because she’s accomplished so godsdamn much, given the time and her circumstances. “It’s also interesting to see how traits continue on. I’d be lying if I said I’ve become something of a proud woman.” An unapologetic grin flashes across her face, because some would call it once of her worse qualities. Wessex just thinks it means she’s got some hard and fast boundaries.
“I think I’m the last one. Haven’t found a Theskyra in Torchline or Halo yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” Is she hopeful? Not particularly. But perhaps someone, somewhere, has been living under a rock or has changed their name, or something has happened. “It’s both a terribly lonely and freeing place to be,” the Wraith muses aloud, shifting from simply holding the glowstones to funneling them from hand to hand.
“Do you remember your surname?” Turning the question on Aamu, she looks at the light-drenched, moon-wrought man and wonders who might have birthed him, who he might have climbed trees with, or fought with. Who he loved, other than the Voice.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
