WESSEX
Enjoying the night. Huh. What a simple concept. How long has it been since she’d enjoyed the night? Probably last Longheat, where there are flickering visions of a naked Amun and herself dancing under the light of the moon.
So it takes delirium, or the curse of the Moth Man, for her to relax - it’s eyeroll inducing, honestly, a sad cliche, but in the light of the glow stones that thought simply fades away.
There’s another verse lingering somewhere in the back of her mind, on the tip of her tongue as they say. She’s niney-percent sure of the the words, about to hum them out, even, when the verse is repeated to her and she snaps to, both surprised and unexpectedly alarmed. Not by Aamu himself (no, he can’t hurt her), but to have one’s thoughts filled in in such a way - and how could he, she’s the last.
“How... do you know that?” she asks, with big glow-stone eyes, her mind lingering somewhere between trembling in hope and knowing it can’t be possible. (Whatever it is).
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
