the best laid plans of mice and men

“Clem,” she repeats, sticking out her hand a second later. And she knows Amun disapproves of her shaking hands, of treating others like ‘equals’ (though let’s be honest, all three parties know the boy isn’t her equal), but it’s not about that. It’s about a nod of recognition. An extension of goodwill and if we’re going to go with the whole fealty and protector thing - a promise - which Clem may not realize now, but will hopefully come to in good time. That Wessex will have their backs if they have hers; they are bound together in minority and adversity and as the one who currently has the most power, the Wraith will do all she can to ensure their survival. Unless you do something stupid like go out at LongNight. Then you might be on your own. “Welcome to the family, kid.” They’re a little fucked up, but hey, what family isn’t? Turning her head to Amun, she snort-laughs. “Clearly. Neither the Mathair portal nor stabbing you scared you off.” A brief pause. “You know that’s messed up, right?” The slight grin on her face, however. indicates that she likes it, even if it is masochistic. Amun’s thoughts about her being kinky may not be too far off the mark… What does she need? A PR manager. A revamped image. The ability to project the magical light of a large herd of luxere all by herself. For everyone to think like she does. What does she need? Everything. “Right now I need you to stay inside and keep an eye on things. In an unobtrusive way. Maybe within eavesdropping distance of anyone using the shell to talk to the Guildhall. Or meet some new people. Play up the new kid thing. You don’t even have to pretend to like me.” This would be good practice for being a spy later, but for now all Wessex really wants to keep these two alive. ‘And when I’m close, you can talk to me like this. No one else can hear you. ’ “What do you think, Amun? Any other ideas for Clem?” WESSEX come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here