I write sins, not tragedies
Oh, how times change. Was it only a year or two ago when the Halovian hunter came upon Wessex in the Fangs, and she’d been the one helping out his people?
It isn’t quite the same, of course, but when she turns to find Noah on one side of the house, she is momentarily taken back. “Noah?” she calls back, raising her hand to shield her eyes and properly identify him.
Well, there’s no mistaking that beard. Waving her hand in a short, crisp gesture, she turns back to her careful nail removal and moves to the next plank, scooting backwards along the roof. It’ll be time consuming, but she doesn’t mind - or care. “I didn’t realize you were here. What brings you to the Grounds?” Glancing over to see where he is now, the Wraith attempts to keep one eye and ear politely on the visitor and the other on her work.
It isn’t quite the same, of course, but when she turns to find Noah on one side of the house, she is momentarily taken back. “Noah?” she calls back, raising her hand to shield her eyes and properly identify him.
Well, there’s no mistaking that beard. Waving her hand in a short, crisp gesture, she turns back to her careful nail removal and moves to the next plank, scooting backwards along the roof. It’ll be time consuming, but she doesn’t mind - or care. “I didn’t realize you were here. What brings you to the Grounds?” Glancing over to see where he is now, the Wraith attempts to keep one eye and ear politely on the visitor and the other on her work.
WESSEX
