Any fictional grandson of hers would likely have a far better sense of humor than she, in that, they are agreed. Thanking the shopkeeper for their information, Wessex turns and continues on her way. Can’t hurt to wander that way. You might as well see what happened to the Tower. Dry as the wood in the building that lit under her eyes, the Wraith turns to where the Order’s homebase used to stand and moseys on that-a-ways.
But as there is nothing left but rubble (or tidied up rubble), on the ground, she eventually turns to another, unmissable attraction. A spire like their own, open at the top, but glittering and bright. Huh… the demigod murmurs mentally to her sister. This is… interesting.
But as there is nothing left but rubble (or tidied up rubble), on the ground, she eventually turns to another, unmissable attraction. A spire like their own, open at the top, but glittering and bright. Huh… the demigod murmurs mentally to her sister. This is… interesting.
The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night
the bright
the thing in the night
Wessex
