WESSEX
the wraith
It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t ask, since Wessex already told him why she went out, and that immediate kind of forgetfulness may not go over well right now. “Yep. Peter, Amalia, Ronin. A fae. Amun, me.” She shrugs. Having seen (and heard) the baby Ascended in the Guildhall group, she is no longer slightly worried about her flunkie. In fact, the group as a whole seems to have done fairly well for going outside. It’s a small, stupid miracle.
At his question, Wessex gets a quick far-off look in her eye as she checks herself and ends up shaking her head. “Nope, everything seems good to go. Thank you.” The Wraith offers him a brief, sharp nod before abruptly ending the conversation and walking away.
It’s unfailingly polite, but cold - even for such a regularly brusque woman.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
