I write sins, not tragedies
The diatribe is as exhausting as it is unhelpful, and Wessex seems so contract again, all her efforts at rebellion and resistance spent for now. Perhaps so much so that she can at least entertain the idea of talking, because the fire in her belly is naught but embers right now. “If you think trying to talk would work towards peace, or… fuck, at least buy more time, I’d be quiet and support you in that.” Who knows, maybe the other side will think it was far too narrow a win to engage again. Maybe now that they’ve seen what she’s seen for years, they’ll come around.
Maybe.
Nodding again in acceptance, Wessex shifts and winces at the reminder as she prepares to stand. “I will. And I won’t be doing that any time soon. Other than needing to get my shit back from a certain green dragon in the Draig, I think I’ll be pretty close to home for a bit. I want to make sure Azrael is… coping okay, and I guess we shouldn’t rule out an attack on us.” Which is to say, there’s a lot to do and she has more than enough reasons to stay out of trouble for a bit.
Maybe.
Nodding again in acceptance, Wessex shifts and winces at the reminder as she prepares to stand. “I will. And I won’t be doing that any time soon. Other than needing to get my shit back from a certain green dragon in the Draig, I think I’ll be pretty close to home for a bit. I want to make sure Azrael is… coping okay, and I guess we shouldn’t rule out an attack on us.” Which is to say, there’s a lot to do and she has more than enough reasons to stay out of trouble for a bit.
WESSEX
