carry on my wayward friend

She’s heard that Ronin was feeling better and seeing as it’d been quite some time since they talked (she was conveniently spared his wrath), Wessex sent the King a note inviting him to a snow-moss gathering outing so that they could catch up in private. Away from prying eyes. And also do something that needed to be done, seeing as the Rathskellar hadn’t been prepped the way the Temple had - which was her fault. She asked him to meet her in the Glade, where a little known patch of snow moss usually remains untouched. This is where he will find her, on her hands and knees in the snow with a basket nearby. She’s methodically pulling at the pale green plant and depositing it in the woven container. There's dirt under her short nails and though she wears her usual cloak, the outfit under it is simple and seasonally inappropriate. The cold doesn’t bother her. If the Ascended could show signs of fatigue and stress on their bodies, she would look tired and tense. But as it is, Wessex just looks... the same as when he last saw her. The way she will always look, from here on out. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm