W E S S E X
“Oh” That’s entirely unexpected. Crossing her eyes to focus on her nose, the Wraith can now see that she does indeed have something that resembles a terribly tissue-irritated nose. A soft huh sits in the back of her throat, but at least the alarm is gone. Just a small curse. Nothing too bad. And if it weren’t for the creepy firling, she might find it funny.
Settling into the role of patient, the demigod does what she is told and looks straight ahead, easily unblinking, into the penlight. Without any idea what it will do or what Isla can see, Wessex holds on to her questions about herself. But there were others, more urgent, that bubbled up and wanted to fill the space. “In your letter you mentioned they needed demigod fluid. Do you think - do they know about Azrael?” She isn’t so much worried about herself as she is her youngest sibling.
Settling into the role of patient, the demigod does what she is told and looks straight ahead, easily unblinking, into the penlight. Without any idea what it will do or what Isla can see, Wessex holds on to her questions about herself. But there were others, more urgent, that bubbled up and wanted to fill the space. “In your letter you mentioned they needed demigod fluid. Do you think - do they know about Azrael?” She isn’t so much worried about herself as she is her youngest sibling.
The Wraith
