I write sins, not tragedies
“Anytime,” the Wraith replies, pushing herself to standing. “I’m living in the Barracks now, so just come find me. Cal and I - I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet - are working on training with upgrades. Did you know some can be taken out and switched around? It’s fascinating, really.” Far more animated now than she has been during their encore prior conversation, it’s one thing that hasn’t changed in Wessex; she still loves to talk about fighting and weapons.
Perhaps it’s why she might be a better strategist and General than a Leader.
Giving a purposeful kick to a stack of bones, they go flying against shiny black walls, clattering about and ricocheting where the demigod might have been a little too forceful. The mess she'd started with is now cast about the room, and Wessex turns from it, satisfied. “I can try. Come, tell me what you want to do on our way back to the portal.”
Perhaps it’s why she might be a better strategist and General than a Leader.
Giving a purposeful kick to a stack of bones, they go flying against shiny black walls, clattering about and ricocheting where the demigod might have been a little too forceful. The mess she'd started with is now cast about the room, and Wessex turns from it, satisfied. “I can try. Come, tell me what you want to do on our way back to the portal.”
WESSEX
