WESSEX
There’s something heavy in the night: an air of expectancy, of waiting and watching and bearing witness to nature. For Wessex, she can feel the world about to shift. Soon the days will be shorter, if only by minutes. Soon she will be able to walk around again without her damn cloak and hood. Soon they will begin to reclaim their time. Whilst others bundle up and hide, the Ascended will walk freely. She slinks through the forest, nowhere near as quiet as the Fae, but a great deal more furtively than some. She pops up next to Deimos with nary a word - just a steady, quiet, and calm presence. To wait. Because that is all they seem to do these days.
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
