WESSEX
Ammit, perhaps. Devourer of some things, certainly, shunner and disdainer of many others. But there is one lesson the newest Queen is quickly learning, and that is the power of fear and surprise; the ability to do the unusual or unexpected; to inspire the fear of death (or the blight, whatever). She would call herself Sekmet, or Set, even, if she had known the many names of his Gods. Even after Abasi reveals his lineage (which means nothing to her), his job (which also means very little), and his predicament (which she already knew), Wessex teeters on the edge of a decision. It isn’t until he asks for her suggestions that she knows what she has to do. Bring him into the fold. By force or persuasion or divine intervention, if need be. She is about to reveal her talons as proof that she is powerful, when another idea pops up, and she stops herself right before her forearm muscles clench.
“Get a home and prepare yourself for Winter. Like it or not, you’re probably going to be here for a bit, and it’s only going to get colder. If you need anything, you can ask for me.”
She says it all with the confidence of someone who knows what she’s talking about. Sugar brings more flies than vinegar, or so someone once told her. Looking at him with an expression that clearly asks anything else? she is eager to return to her silent contemplation of the cosmos and the events of the last few weeks and wondering what the fuck she’s going to do.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
