WESSEX
“Great,” she says, simply, followed be a potentially never-heard before “Thank you.” Reaching out to take the book gently, she peers at the cover and shrugs, even as the writing swims and rearranges itself before her eyes. Eyes which happen to glow a rather creepy ice-blue while she looks at it. “It was a risk I was willing to take. Something that may not be missed.” Or a personal diary/journal/notes on something that could potentially help her. Who knows what Wessex currently needs help with, but after being in that goddamn bubble for three centuries, any influx of knowledge is valuable. And after that LongNight monster discovery - which she still needs to ask the Lady about, goddamnit - she knows that the theft is worth the risk. Hell, if she could have, she would have gone herself and read as much as possible.
But then he asks her how she’s been and Wessex looks up at him, quite surprised. They’ve never done small talk before. It doesn’t suit their relationship. She exhales into a sharp laugh. “People suck. I’ve decided to dedicate my efforts solely to doing our Lady’s work.” I would give you the stars, she said, and Wessex has decided that she will take the stars and in return, deliver the world to the Voice. Ninety-nine percent of veryone else can fuck right off.
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
