It's Lord of the Flies in my mind tonight
She comes bearing gifts - out of respect for the requested trade and also because she knows it can’t be easy hunting in Halo. Everything is either white, can kill you, moves quickly, or is a combination of any of the three. Besides, she’s looking to make ‘friends,’ maybe get some information, maybe talk to a lesser deity, maybe go up against an Ursur; anything that keeps Wessex away from the Grounds just seems like a good idea at the moment, regardless of whether or not it’s actually a good idea.
Carrying a dead luxere buck across her shoulders, Wessex nimbly turns this way and that in order to get through the Marketplace crowd. To her credit, she doesn’t even try to apologize when she accidentally whacks a couple of people in the face - so there’s the ex-Queen we all know and love. She’s still in their somewhere, just a tad bit traumatized. Yes, even the most stalwart of the Grounders can be traumatized by the mass scale of death she witnessed.
There’s irony in there somewhere that it was a mud monster and not a LongNight monster that triggers it, but let’s not try to sort that bit out.
Carrying her prize to a more or less open area, she finds herself a bit out of place - most of the hawkers have some sort of stall, maybe a sign. She’s just a blonde, under-dressed woman with meat to sell, clearly not a native of Halo and clearly unaffected by the cold. Taking a seat on the steps, Wessex hovers over her kill with an open eye - observing and quietly waiting. With a commodity between her legs, someone’s bound to bite.
Weaver
Carrying a dead luxere buck across her shoulders, Wessex nimbly turns this way and that in order to get through the Marketplace crowd. To her credit, she doesn’t even try to apologize when she accidentally whacks a couple of people in the face - so there’s the ex-Queen we all know and love. She’s still in their somewhere, just a tad bit traumatized. Yes, even the most stalwart of the Grounders can be traumatized by the mass scale of death she witnessed.
There’s irony in there somewhere that it was a mud monster and not a LongNight monster that triggers it, but let’s not try to sort that bit out.
Carrying her prize to a more or less open area, she finds herself a bit out of place - most of the hawkers have some sort of stall, maybe a sign. She’s just a blonde, under-dressed woman with meat to sell, clearly not a native of Halo and clearly unaffected by the cold. Taking a seat on the steps, Wessex hovers over her kill with an open eye - observing and quietly waiting. With a commodity between her legs, someone’s bound to bite.
