happy birthday to you

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 Semi-leading an easy route through the Ruins, Wessex has a place in mind for the two of them, fear not! Taking a moment to collect her thoughts as they weave between more crumbling buildings, the Wraith listens to Rex as she begins to peel away her own layers. “That sounds like a shitty situation,” she says after a quiet moment. Like, even worse than dealing with the high-and-mighty Ronin. “Married off. I’m guessing you didn’t like him, did you?” If that’s the case, Wessex knows she’s gotten off easily. She can, technically, walk away from this whenever she wants to. If it becomes too much (but when has she ever backed down from a challenge?) she can whisk herself off into the night and never return. That’s not going to happen. But it’s always an option; a comforting, last-resort , avoiding-death option. Enough about Wessex’s feelings for the moment. They can circle back to that later. “You look hardly old enough to have been a Queen. No offense, really.” But to have had to do that kind of thing, so young? Hell, all the Outlanders are fucking children in her mind, and perhaps that’s part of the problem. She still has difficulty thinking that they’ve lived enough of a life to have any perspective on ruling or governing or whatever the fuck it is she, at thirty-nine, is trying to do.