dont know where the lights are taking us
but something in the night is dangerous
but something in the night is dangerous
There’s nothing left to do but laugh, so Wessex does, interjecting a light chuckle as she looks up at the Deepfrost-grey sky. “Surmise whichever will offend you least..." She trails off. There’s no point in answering the mostly hypothetical question (I mean really, abomination or less monarch?) She isn’t bothered until the Fae Chief all but says she’s going to abandon her people, challenging her with a quip about Ronin and some fucking bit of mold.
But you know what the cool thing about being a Queen is? She doesn’t have to justify herself unless she wants to. Or feels the need to. The Wraith feels neither, as it is obvious that the War Chief knows jack shit about her.
There’s nothing but a build up of determination in Wessex’s spine that drives her to prove everyone wrong. Including Delah. Wessex smiles disarmingly and refuses to answer the question, instead gesturing gracefully towards the woods (not so far away, but still out of reach). “So is that a yes to permission to enter the Greatwood or would you like to escort my person here?”
But you know what the cool thing about being a Queen is? She doesn’t have to justify herself unless she wants to. Or feels the need to. The Wraith feels neither, as it is obvious that the War Chief knows jack shit about her.
There’s nothing but a build up of determination in Wessex’s spine that drives her to prove everyone wrong. Including Delah. Wessex smiles disarmingly and refuses to answer the question, instead gesturing gracefully towards the woods (not so far away, but still out of reach). “So is that a yes to permission to enter the Greatwood or would you like to escort my person here?”
