W E S S E X
Happy LongNight.
An oxymoron, something that wasn’t possible for Grounders and the Wraith’s entire life, and yet the spill unironically from the Remedy’s mouth. Wessex is quiet for longer than she should be, trying to wrap her head around the phrase. Even now, she can’t believe they may be okay (and unbeknownst to her, they are but their siblings are not). They may escape unscathed.
“Call me dramatic, but I’m not sure I can say that,” Wessex replies, somber but not depressingly so. “But I hope that changes. If, after everything…” ah, yes. There’s the depressing part. If they’re still around after the war, then perhaps -
Well, perhaps.
“I’m just waiting to see if there are any stragglers.” Then they can retreat behind the second pair of doors, and Wessex reaches down for her weapons to indicate that she’ll soon be ready, revealing a half-healed long gash in her forearm. It isn’t quite healing before Isla’s eyes, but if she were to check on it tomorrow, it might be nothing more than a scar.
An oxymoron, something that wasn’t possible for Grounders and the Wraith’s entire life, and yet the spill unironically from the Remedy’s mouth. Wessex is quiet for longer than she should be, trying to wrap her head around the phrase. Even now, she can’t believe they may be okay (and unbeknownst to her, they are but their siblings are not). They may escape unscathed.
“Call me dramatic, but I’m not sure I can say that,” Wessex replies, somber but not depressingly so. “But I hope that changes. If, after everything…” ah, yes. There’s the depressing part. If they’re still around after the war, then perhaps -
Well, perhaps.
“I’m just waiting to see if there are any stragglers.” Then they can retreat behind the second pair of doors, and Wessex reaches down for her weapons to indicate that she’ll soon be ready, revealing a half-healed long gash in her forearm. It isn’t quite healing before Isla’s eyes, but if she were to check on it tomorrow, it might be nothing more than a scar.
The Wraith
