sailing from another world

Wessex grins; a sort of feral expression that seems to hint at both amusement and ferocity blended together. It isn’t necessarily reassuring, but it’s enough to say that she won’t harm him. He’s shown up and they’re in this together. She’s not much of a talker though, giving him a solid “Yep,” as a reply to both the statement and question. They venture into the great unknown, sally forth on only their bravery and wits, chancing danger and death with every step. But he’s a Viking, a great explorer. And she’s been tasked with mapping the Greatwood, lending her eyes to her Goddess so that they may… what? Conquer the world? Ha. She can only hope. Nevertheless, she turns and faces the river before them with a sense of appraisal. “Let’s try keep the river within sight or sound for now. I’ve a map if we get lost.” Looking back at the armored man, she gestures for the two of them to walk together, and if he chooses to fall in step, she will follow it up with, “I’m Wessex. You are?” It is an opportunity to start anew. For him, at least. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm