the nose knows more than you suppose

and if you want, i could tell you the truth

that this life takes a toll on you. i spend nights

He’s there, albeit a bit hungover, a bruise to his jaw, quite a few scars from healed Ascended bites on his neck though a fresh pair sits in plain sight along his neck beneath his ear. But he’s in relatively good spirits as he fixes up one of the punching bags. The knock is a bit of a surprise, however, seeing as most people simply waltzed right in — but when the voice pipes up, he realizes who it is, puffs out a quiet sigh of relief that it wasn’t something else happening in Torchline he needed to be aware of. And he abandons the punching bag to greet the Wraith.

“Hey Wessex, come in.” He offers, moving over to set the scissors and thread he’d been working with off to the side before he leans against the counter and rests his hands on it, leaning back against it. He spots the dragon then, sucking in a sharp breath and feels the pant of sorrow that hits his gut before his gaze tears away from it to Wessex, offering a small half smile, trying to cover up the hidden surprise. “And you have a dragon too?” A nod of his head toward it as he whistles and Haai hops out of her makeshift nest behind the counter to go greet both Ascended and companion.

stitching up the loose threads of my soul

so in the morning i'm bulletproof

SUNJATA