talons sharp as knives

When I say that it’s impossible to miss Wessex’s mechshift, it isn’t out of hubris; it’s simply because it’s so big compared to most normal animals. And it’s in the sky, so there’s a shadow that’s hard to hide, and a certain metallic sheen that seems to glint under the sun, despite its darkness, despite the way it seems to eat the light. She flies high enough to requiring a peering kind of scrutiny, close enough to the sun to be, perhaps, mistaken for something real, but large enough to be more than a sea-hawk or Hels. With no need to flap her wings to stay aloft, the bird might just be coasting the thermals. The Wraith’s eyes, however, are watchful and she clocks the person on the beach but doesn’t care to investigate who they are or what they’re doing; so long as they leave her alone, she’ll do the same. WESSEX The Wraith