Arialla scowled, opened her mouth, and then closed it. She didn't really have any rebuttals to Wessex's points. Oh, she could have argued that immortality did not a goddess make, but looking at the Torchers around her, she could tell that such a semantic argument would move no one. And Wessex was right about one thing -- if Wessex were in trouble, Arialla would leave her to burn. Somehow the monster had claimed the moral high ground, and Arialla didn't know what to do about it. She had never been a great rhetorician.
"Don't listen to her," Arialla addressed the crowd, ignoring Wessex's responses. "Siding with the Voice will only get you killed."
I'll do it myself if I have to, she thought, but had enough sense at least to not say that. Instead she became an eagle and took wing, flying away from the confrontation, which mostly definitely had not gone her way. No souls saved today, damn it. Well, next time she saw an Ascended, she'd make sure they didn't come out of the encounter victorious -- or unscathed.
Arialla leaves!
please don't take my sunshine away
