Go
deep throat
a cactus
She relaxes a bit, her posture changing, and her arms drop to sides as she looks down at her weather-inappropriate, but yes, entirely serviceable and slightly barbaric (or kinky, depending on your view of leather) garb. She bends at the waist in return, traditional gender roles reversed. Which is fine, cause fuck tradition.
“What would I do with simpering ladies, other than strangle them in their sleep?” she asks, mock shaking her head. “Seamstresses would hate me for ruining silks in the outdoors, jewels would give away my hiding places, and a crown is a dick move in a land where people were recently starving.” A poor use of resources. A wicked little grin darts across her face as she takes that same knife, turns it around, and throws it at a nearby tree (not the Mathair). It vibrates in the wood, and then is quickly followed by a second, just below it, and a third - a little off of where an imaginary man’s vital organs may be, but still ‘on’ the person.
“How many Queens can do that?” she asks, with more than a little pride in her voice.
“How come your world’s Queens are never self-sufficient? You’re the second one who’s said I should have people with me.” Like everyone around here doesn’t have anything better to do than wait on her, or try and protect her back. You’d have to be an idiot to attack Wessex at night. And as for during the day, you’d have to find her, first.
“What would I do with simpering ladies, other than strangle them in their sleep?” she asks, mock shaking her head. “Seamstresses would hate me for ruining silks in the outdoors, jewels would give away my hiding places, and a crown is a dick move in a land where people were recently starving.” A poor use of resources. A wicked little grin darts across her face as she takes that same knife, turns it around, and throws it at a nearby tree (not the Mathair). It vibrates in the wood, and then is quickly followed by a second, just below it, and a third - a little off of where an imaginary man’s vital organs may be, but still ‘on’ the person.
“How many Queens can do that?” she asks, with more than a little pride in her voice.
“How come your world’s Queens are never self-sufficient? You’re the second one who’s said I should have people with me.” Like everyone around here doesn’t have anything better to do than wait on her, or try and protect her back. You’d have to be an idiot to attack Wessex at night. And as for during the day, you’d have to find her, first.
