MABEL
Mabel had many misgivings about large crowds – mainly because she tended to keep to herself, preferring the platitudes of either no one or a few, close friends. However, after the festivities in the meadows, the breaking news upon war potential and other nuances, the girl had to draw the trepidation to a minimum. Suck in a breath she didn’t need. And rampage through the darkness, a rapid churning of eerie, enigmatic feet and daggers clenched tightly in her hands.
Without Wessex’s ability to broadcast announcements and information, the young Ascended was forced to coincide with the old-fashioned way – leaving notes and placing parchment upon the boards. Thereafter, she figured the Temple would be the best place – and then she waited for others to trickle in, having already set up some chairs.
And then, of course, she had to start. Willing her fingers to stop wheedling around one another, and wishing with a very mortal pang that her sister was here, she looked, glanced, summoned some manner of strength, and began. “I called you all here because of some news during the party in King’s End.” Another breath she didn’t need, but it stuck against her spine and gave her some resolve. “A voice arrived and said there would be eight more cycles of heat and snow, before war. The tools are ready, but the warriors are not.” Striving to remember all of it, she parsed through the other sanctions. “It also mentioned finding relics and preparing.”
Thereafter, she took a step back, presuming some manner of discussion would begin.
Without Wessex’s ability to broadcast announcements and information, the young Ascended was forced to coincide with the old-fashioned way – leaving notes and placing parchment upon the boards. Thereafter, she figured the Temple would be the best place – and then she waited for others to trickle in, having already set up some chairs.
And then, of course, she had to start. Willing her fingers to stop wheedling around one another, and wishing with a very mortal pang that her sister was here, she looked, glanced, summoned some manner of strength, and began. “I called you all here because of some news during the party in King’s End.” Another breath she didn’t need, but it stuck against her spine and gave her some resolve. “A voice arrived and said there would be eight more cycles of heat and snow, before war. The tools are ready, but the warriors are not.” Striving to remember all of it, she parsed through the other sanctions. “It also mentioned finding relics and preparing.”
Thereafter, she took a step back, presuming some manner of discussion would begin.
Let's go to war to make peace
Let's be cold to create heat
Let's be cold to create heat
