WESSEX
the wraith
It is a swallowing of doubt that goes both ways; while the Wraith and the Shield have come to what seems to be an understanding of sorts, fueld mostly by the love of what they were and past traumas, there’s no certainty for what the future will hold. There never is. There are a hundred things the Shield could do that the Wraith would find unforgivable and vice versa. So perhaps it’s only a matter of time until one of those things happens and this falls through indefinitely. Wessex will always see the Old Gods as the ones who put them in this bubble, and Amalia will always see the Voice as the one who made them do it. Until they can get to the bottom of what really happened, they will have fundamental differences. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.” Comes quietly as she, too, looks to the distant dawn. It’s late. “Time for both of us to go to bed, I think.” Wessex stand and offers a hand for Amalia to pull herself up on. “And how’s Jyoti doing?” she asks casually to the whale, as more of a time filler than anything else. And also, the calf is cute. You'd have to be a monster to not see that.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
