Go
deep throat
a cactus
Gathering up the last of her stuff to move it to her new room in the Barracks, an unexpected knock makes the Wraith pause.
Technically, it’s not her house anymore. And not her responsibility to answer visitors. And who the fuck knocks on the cellar door instead of the main one? It makes her pause. Putting her shit down, Wessex sneaks over to the door and tries to listen for a clue - but it’s as silent as the grave. So, she does the next best thing and tries to surprise whomever’s out there by shifting into her Ford Explorer-sized bird (yes, let’s handwave the size of the cellar).
Moving into position, bird!Wessex’s beak raps sharply on the door from below, breaking easily through the lock and sending some of the balloons on to her shiny metal beak and head. Even her diluted sense of smell can’t mask the acrid, ammonia stench and she shakes her head, maybe sending a bit of the excess flying as it rolls off her.
The fuck?!
Technically, it’s not her house anymore. And not her responsibility to answer visitors. And who the fuck knocks on the cellar door instead of the main one? It makes her pause. Putting her shit down, Wessex sneaks over to the door and tries to listen for a clue - but it’s as silent as the grave. So, she does the next best thing and tries to surprise whomever’s out there by shifting into her Ford Explorer-sized bird (yes, let’s handwave the size of the cellar).
Moving into position, bird!Wessex’s beak raps sharply on the door from below, breaking easily through the lock and sending some of the balloons on to her shiny metal beak and head. Even her diluted sense of smell can’t mask the acrid, ammonia stench and she shakes her head, maybe sending a bit of the excess flying as it rolls off her.
The fuck?!
