sailing from another world

She’s more intrigued by his assessment of her than anything else that comes out of his mouth. Wessex shoots him a curious side-eyed glance, making a face in the darkness. While she doesn’t think he’s stupid per se, his depth of thought seems to be rather limited. Stuck in the reality of his home world, perhaps, or hell, maybe someone here has brainwashed him. Which isn’t to say that she’s looking to befriend the big man, but she hadn’t been trying to add anyone to her list of foes. Not right now. Without looking at him, she responds as cool and hard-edged as he would have her be. “Then you’re an idiot. If I wanted to hurt you, I already would have. And I would have let you go into the Spire and trip over your own feet into your own death.” All of a sudden she stops, and turns to face Are, clenching her fists to make her talons shwing out into the night, catching what little light filter in from the moon. Bringing them up in front of her chest, she completes his cliche version of an Ascended and runs her tongue along the metal in an oddly defiant slash bizarre move. Meant to frighten, perhaps, or show some degree of mental instability. “But you are right about one thing: I can be utterly ruthless. Cross me at your own risk.” Pulling away, Wessex looks downstream and sheaths her talons. “I’ll walk the rest by myself.” Are is no longer needed. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm