empires fall when we move the unmovable, so tell me all of my secrets, tell me all of my lies,
“Maaaaabel?” Wessex calls aloud, as she pauses in her struggle against the thick muck. It sucks at her calves, clings to her feet, and each step takes considerably more effort than anywhere else she’s walked. But she had to be here - the girl’s absence has been noted for far too long and as a self-styled big sister, she now has to do everything she can to find her. Mabel had already been left to die once; the demigod can’t let it happen again.
So she calls out every fifty feet or so, insistent and unyielding, despite the thick yellow fog and the land that seems to want to eat her. It’s quite a continuous racket, but she’ll slog her way through the whole damn Feverlands if she has to.
What few others will be able to hear is the mental inquiries she sends along with it, reaching out to her sibling, urging her, pleading with her to answer if she’s out there. "Maaaaabel?"
So she calls out every fifty feet or so, insistent and unyielding, despite the thick yellow fog and the land that seems to want to eat her. It’s quite a continuous racket, but she’ll slog her way through the whole damn Feverlands if she has to.
What few others will be able to hear is the mental inquiries she sends along with it, reaching out to her sibling, urging her, pleading with her to answer if she’s out there. "Maaaaabel?"
WESSEX
