WESSEX
the wraith
There aren’t a lot of people who wander aimlessly through the ruins; it’s a treacherous area in the winter, once you account for the ice and snow-hidden obstacles. No one wants to turn an ankle or bust a knee or worse, before LongNight. But as Oliver surmises, once the traces of Deepfrost disappear it becomes an escape again. The Ruins are used for teenage trysts, for hiding things, for hunting… in short, for both nefarious and purely secretive things. The only things of value left might be the things forgotten in the depths of winter - all the other items having been carried out or used for firewood long ago. What Wessex is doing there is unclear at the moment (has she ever needed an excuse to wander her home?), but the peroxide white hair is difficult to miss as it bobs amidst the darker, overgrown buildings. As she draws closer, she vaguely recognizes the young man from LongNight, but can’t put a name to face. Half of her doesn’t want to bother. The other half knows she should at least make an attempt to be personable and cordial. 'Fun' isn't a naturally occurring state for Wessex - just ask Amun.
He seems to be ducking up and down, and the Queen can't figure out why. “What are you doing?” she calls out, striding confidently towards him, hood drawn up to her hairline to shield herself from the sun.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
