empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
Death is a familiar shadow in the Grounds. In the before times, it had a place at every table and a bed in every house. It could linger, hunkering down like a rebel under siege or strike quickly, and you never knew until someone got that restless, mad look in their eyes or that spark faded out completely. Wessex knows the death rattle of the wasting sickness. She knows the cry of defiance as they hurled themselves headlong into the barrier. Like Peter, she is far too familiar with death and doesn’t help until he comes for you.
Sometimes she lets her feet do the walking - like they do now - clambering over the Ruins like an overgrown mountain goat, her feet find steady purchases in well-worn nooks and divots. This was her playground, once. The blonde demigod looks up to find Loki coasting overhead, hunting - she can feel the gnawing in her belly, almost as if she, too, were fucking starving.
However, it isn’t a tasty rabbit that Loki finds, but someone. Someone she doesn’t know. Swooping back to find her bonded, the black dragon insists on leading Wessex to the person, urging her on with little screes until she can make out a head.
“Hello?” she calls out, hearing the gasping fish sounds first. “Are you alright?”
Sometimes she lets her feet do the walking - like they do now - clambering over the Ruins like an overgrown mountain goat, her feet find steady purchases in well-worn nooks and divots. This was her playground, once. The blonde demigod looks up to find Loki coasting overhead, hunting - she can feel the gnawing in her belly, almost as if she, too, were fucking starving.
However, it isn’t a tasty rabbit that Loki finds, but someone. Someone she doesn’t know. Swooping back to find her bonded, the black dragon insists on leading Wessex to the person, urging her on with little screes until she can make out a head.
“Hello?” she calls out, hearing the gasping fish sounds first. “Are you alright?”
WESSEX
