I got sunshine on a cloudy day

So am I, Wessex retorts, knowing full well that she can rub literally everyone the wrong way. But Wessex is usually, almost always useful to the situations she gets herself in to. Things get done, even if they’re done slowly, like with the Eirachi shrine. Though I have to admit that I haven’t been to most of Torchline. Might head to the Governor’s mansion next, see what he’s all about. Glancing to the volcano in the distance, the Wraith shrugs, only half-curious about the leader of Torchilne. At least, she thinks she’ll find him, not knowing that the man can rarely be found doing actual work there. That part will blow her mind. They both know that between the two of them, the vendor could be dead in an instant, but that’s not the way this outing is supposed to go – that goes against what the Voice is trying to achieve, even if half of Torchline might also kill the man for throwing a clam at them. Wessex whirls and hisses, fangs bared and talons unsheathed. There’s a visible movement in the crowd as people begin to notice and surge away from the three, whispers and mutterings traveling quickly. Magic may abound, but the Ascended are rare, never seen before the portals opened. Faced with both talons and a sword, the clam man pales and throws his hands up in either defense or acquiescence, his eyes darting from Amun to Wessex and back again. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.” Eyes flashing, Wessex's lips curl, but her talons slowly retract back into her knuckles. Killing him would be counter-productive, but fuck if I don't want to. Gesturing for Amun to follow if he likes, she heads on down the market path, the people parting to give her a wide berth. {Fin} WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm