W E S S E X
Maybe the Knowtbook had told her. Maybe Sam had called, finally thinking logically in the last moments of his life, or maybe Loki spied a party and wanted in on it. It doesn’t matter what brings her to this murder scene, she comes hot on Cam’s heels.
“They fucking are not,” the Wraith growls, surveying the scene: a sobbing Amun (why? She didn’t actually know the potter had feelings for Sam), and angry Edy, and a scared Cam. “Gods.” What else is there to say? Aiming a kick at another part of Gideon, she comes to squat down next to Amun, placing a hand on his shoulder and peering at the burned and slightly shimmery body of the bookmaker.
She should feel more for Sam, she should. There’s definitely a sadness, a kind of ache in her chest, but it’s numb at the edges. It’s the calm disappointment and realization of someone who’s seen far too much death, and now just thinks of the next steps. “Come on, let’s take him home.”
“They fucking are not,” the Wraith growls, surveying the scene: a sobbing Amun (why? She didn’t actually know the potter had feelings for Sam), and angry Edy, and a scared Cam. “Gods.” What else is there to say? Aiming a kick at another part of Gideon, she comes to squat down next to Amun, placing a hand on his shoulder and peering at the burned and slightly shimmery body of the bookmaker.
She should feel more for Sam, she should. There’s definitely a sadness, a kind of ache in her chest, but it’s numb at the edges. It’s the calm disappointment and realization of someone who’s seen far too much death, and now just thinks of the next steps. “Come on, let’s take him home.”
The Wraith