you must be swift as the coursing river

At the notion that it is she who will hurt them, the grouping of fae warriors collectively sneer. Their eyes turn slanted at the corners, silent laughter passes among them like ripples in a pond.

"Then forward it shall be."

At once spears are pointed in her direction, fire alighting the tips and bathing the warriors in a warm glow. It lights up the darkness but is not simply a way to provide light, oh no. It is a warning. A message. We know what you are. We know how to hurt you.

Wessex is bigger, stronger than one, but surely not all.

"To the pit."

Coding base by Sky!