Children of the Revolution

There are way too many trees, she realizes, when she looks up and can’t even try to navigate their way out by the stars. A short look of consternation flits across her face as she resigns herself to wandering around with the hopes that they’ll make it out before daylight. Good news is that there’s a lot of shade in here - bad news is daylight lasts a fucking long time right now. Anyway. She follows Lucas’s lead this time - not because she thinks he knows which way to go, but because she hasn’t any idea either, and one guess is as good as any other at this point. Wessex is, however, trying to siphon information from their surroundings: air flow, smell, temperature, even. Unfortunately, everything just smells like the woods. Lucas brings her attention back to him (well done) and her lips purse a little in response. “Yes, of course. But with the right people. Unfortunately, Naturals aren’t too keen on Ascending. We’re the stuff of nightmares to children and the devout call us abominations. It’s stupid, really.” She pauses and tilts her head in a thoughtful manner. “There might be some old ones still in hiding, like 108 and Kristopher. But I wouldn’t count on it.” She throws him a glance now, curious. “Why? Have someone in mind?” Perhaps a certain, always beautiful lady who’s name rhymes with Shmexshanna? Not that Wessex would know about that. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm