WESSEX
“Go on ahead,” Wessex murmurs quietly, indicating that the rest of then should precede her. Something nags the Queen in the back of her head and she needs to take care of it. Since her bauble is finished, she’ll stay there, thinking with a deeply furrowed brow, waving on the others if they stop to see if she’s coming (they don’t). When the matter is resolved to her satisfaction, she suddenly rises, shakes her head to clear the cobwebs, and then places her tools in the sink. Heading outside, Wessex takes the shortest path to the Firling and gingerly hangs her item on its branches, smiling at how tall its grown and the way its whole trunk still jiggles when it's touched.
{Fin}
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
