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 Keeping her cards close to her chest was a choice she made a long time ago, more out of necessity and her particular line of work than because she wanted to be alone. But again, there was her line of work; while it put food on the table and kept her sister safe, it made her more enemies than friends. It made people afraid and hateful and truly, it was only Magrethe’s charm and influence that kept them from running her into the barrier, Wessex often thought. What would she have been in another life? Who would she be, what face, what power, what form? Her old beliefs say there is only an afterlife, no resurrection, no opportunity to do life all over again, and yet here Rexanna stands, here are the Outlanders, and they say they’ve done a thousand things she’ll never get to experience. Lived lives. Born children. Served other Gods. What if Mort is selfish and wrong? What if…? She exhales through her lips at the news of Rex’s memories (thoroughly unaware that she, too, had been there, but will never remember, and they will likely never remember her either). “What kind of life? What was so different?” she asks, curious what these different Rexanna’s might be like, what a mother and a Thief (she said it so importantly) might bring to the table. Better yet, are those versions still in this version as well? There are more questions which spring unbidden to her lips, but she keeps them in check for now. Instead, she spreads her hands and gestures to the dark, empty ruins before them. “Well, what would you like to know?” Because what she’s asking isn’t about Wessex herself; that will have to be requested specifically. Caido, however - or the small amount she knows about - is much more easily accessible.