Some part of her ought to be sad at the tiger’s demise, the way the body both melts and explodes, unti there’s just a jumble of flesh and bones and molten metal pooling on the ground. After it’s obvious the danger is gone, Wessex squats down to investigate the phenomenon, unaware that the other woman has more or less thrown herself against a tree.
She wants to touch it, but doesn’t know if it’s hot (because metal that runs like this is supposed to be hot, right?) and there’s the feeling of eyes on her, which makes her pause before stretching out her hand.
It hovers in front of her, hidden from the woman’s view - but when she speaks, Wessex turns around and pushes up from her knees. “Not a problem,” she offers with a thin-lipped smile, as if she might just go off hero-ing (re: she absolutely might) all the time. And as for the second question? “I’m Wessex. Theskyra.” Extending a hand, she conveniently leaves off all the other parts of her identity.
Just to be polite, the Wraith returns the question. "You?"
She wants to touch it, but doesn’t know if it’s hot (because metal that runs like this is supposed to be hot, right?) and there’s the feeling of eyes on her, which makes her pause before stretching out her hand.
It hovers in front of her, hidden from the woman’s view - but when she speaks, Wessex turns around and pushes up from her knees. “Not a problem,” she offers with a thin-lipped smile, as if she might just go off hero-ing (re: she absolutely might) all the time. And as for the second question? “I’m Wessex. Theskyra.” Extending a hand, she conveniently leaves off all the other parts of her identity.
Just to be polite, the Wraith returns the question. "You?"
The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night
the bright
the thing in the night
Wessex
