strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff

“You can’t save everyone, Loren.” Wessex says with a downward glance and a sharp, unnecessary exhale. “I would know. I’ve tried.” And she failed. Miserably. But that is the story of a  life long gone, way before some of the Outlanders were born, before anyone ever dreamed of Portals. Before, before, before. And the truth of the matter is that they need Loren, so he needs to find a way to either live with whatever guilt he’s making up, or get over it. Pick his battles. In that way, Wessex is probably much more like Zariah than she’d like to admit - she compartmentalizes like crazy. And right now, it’s what’s allowing her to do this job. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t run yourself into the ground.” And with that, Wessex leaves the Launceleyn Manor - tumbler-less, but somewhat hopeful about LongNight. {Fiiiiiin unless you want to post again} WESSEX come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here