the birds are whispering

WESSEX after all is said and done you're just a carnivore let you in and drink my blood you're nothing but a monster A knife? Kinky, her eyes say, until it’s clear that the knife isn’t for blood play (something she’d never thought of doing until literally, right now, despite her new hungers). “That’s a two way street, pumpkin,” she murmurs back, gaze flicking from Edy’s eyes to her lips and back again. She may not be able to burn the Launceleyn, but in the right time, the right place, the right unexpected moment - she could be as dangerous as any magic the not-teenager might throw at her. The Ascended leans forward to capture Edy’s lips, purposefully stopping just before she might have a taste of tangy blood and sweet, sweet, sex incarnate. “And when, if? Zariah comes back? What then? I’ll play with three-to-one odds, but two-versus-two is shit if I’m stuck with Jigano and you return to Zariah’s side.” She wants some kind of assurance that saying yes isn’t an immediate death sentence. There’s too much fire otherwise. The lorekeeper isn’t a fighter. Wessex is loyal as fuck - but only for the right people. Part of her really wants the Queen to be the right person, but she’s not naive enough to think that this will be easy. The three of them are a version of ‘least likely to rule in a trifecta,’ but fuck wouldn’t it be fun to try? "Make sure I'm out of all hell breaks loose and I'm in."