WESSEX
the wraith
A couple of minutes before ten am on the dot - Wessex rounds the corner to the benches by the entrance to the Snowcloak. She’d done a lot of thinking in the space between their encounter, more or less trying to talk herself in to keeping her cool in the face of blatant racism. It’s a battle she’s fought a hundred times, a battle she’s damn tired of fighting, and yet… this is her job, isn’t it? In a way? Sighing to herself, the Wraith wraps an unnecessary cloak around herself before sitting on a bench and waiting for the Captain. Part of her doubts the woman will even show up. The other half knows she will, because whether she likes it or not, Morgan is like Wessex. They’re soldiers who keep their word.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
