WESSEX
Wessex snorts quietly to herself, half-enjoying the story even as she dismissed the Fae as superstitious idiots. Or maybe she’s just bitter about everyone else enjoying the sunshine while all it does is make her weaker and grouchier. So much more of a grouch than she was before. If that’s even possible. Not to mention that she doubts Safrin would be pleased with an offering from an abomination. Hell, the goddess would probably try and direct the sun’s rays to target her and turn her into a little pile of ash.
Still, the Ascended remains prone in the grass (purely out of curiosity and a need to know things) on the edge of the group, keeping her thoughts and grumbles to herself. No point in ruining it for the rest of them. The eyerolls, however, are plentiful and well-hidden in the dark.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
