WESSEX
At first, she thinks the girl might be Seren (because she has forgotten that demigod children age different and she hasn’t seen the daughter of Safrin in… at least a year). Brown hair. About the same size (but then all children seem small until they aren’t). Living in Torchline (ah, but that, too, would be wrong, because her fathers are in the Greatwood. Wessex, you aren’t doing great here). And that flash is enough to make the blonde demigoddess raise her hand and call out to the girl who is so studiously gathering driftwood. “Seren?” As if they aren’t clearly on opposite sides on a conflict.
As if the girl would remember her from their singular encounter.
Well, she might remember Loki, larger now but still unmistakable. The dragon flits above the Grounds’ General, taking advantage of the breeze off the Ocean to go on her own version of a roller coaster.
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
