There’s only so much ash a blonde, pale girl can take before she starts to feel permanently dirty. Even without something as quaint as pores, sweating, or acne, there’s something obnoxious about the way it all lingers in the air. Acrid. A fine layer of white or grey, which makes Wessex occasionally look far more like a ghostly figure than she ever has before.
Which needed a visit to the ocean to wash away. And then, naturally, needed a walk and some time away from the Grounds and… everything that comes in the aftermath.
Someone else’s bow (just borrowed - don’t worry, she’ll give it back) hangs lightly in one hand, quiver tossed over a shoulder as the older woman tromps with surprising softness through the colorful, foreign foliage, until she comes to something that seems to head under…? The demigod pauses, tilting her head to listen for anything unnatural, and is that - ? With a soft hum to herself, she nocks her own arrow and drops into a more ready position, moving to the balls of her feet and growing unnaturally, inhumanly still.
Which needed a visit to the ocean to wash away. And then, naturally, needed a walk and some time away from the Grounds and… everything that comes in the aftermath.
Someone else’s bow (just borrowed - don’t worry, she’ll give it back) hangs lightly in one hand, quiver tossed over a shoulder as the older woman tromps with surprising softness through the colorful, foreign foliage, until she comes to something that seems to head under…? The demigod pauses, tilting her head to listen for anything unnatural, and is that - ? With a soft hum to herself, she nocks her own arrow and drops into a more ready position, moving to the balls of her feet and growing unnaturally, inhumanly still.
The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night
the bright
the thing in the night
Wessex
