I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game

Basking in the light of her Lady’s electric praise, Wessex nods along until it’s mentioned that they scuttled into the darkness. Pursing her lips, the General knows where to begin and though she also knows she doesn’t have to justify her thoughts in the regular way (such is the generous love of the Voice), she will do so anyway. “I wish they hadn’t been able to escape. Knowing now that one was pregnant with Remi’s child, it’s probably for the best but - nevertheless.” Cutting herself off, Wessex refocuses on why she’s here. “We couldn’t chase them across the skies or chase them down as animals, even at night. There are some shifts that we just aren’t suited to go up against, and I think everyone knows that flying is one way to escape. So - what if we could fly?” Taking the paper out of her pocket, she unfurls it and turns, coming in close to allow the Voice to look over her shoulder as she explains what is probably obvious. “If I could be a bird - but a bird of your design, putting the best of both worlds together. See, the metal in my arms expanding out - skeleton growing and shifting so I could carry my siblings.” A necessity, not needing to reply on a dragon shift or anyone else’s good will. “Wings with blades for feathers. Razor sharp talons. I have all the optical upgrades already, could easily keep that kind of sharp eyesight.” And of course, the part that makes her most happy: “Every easily accessible part more or less metal. No need to worry about a manticore’s sting, or another predator’s claws.” Turning her head to the Voice, she is now a little more hesitant. Anything can be done with time, she once said and Wessex firmly believes that. But is it good enough? WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm