Rise from Ruin

If it’s a staredown Archebold wants, weighing and measuring her patience, her ability to stand firm under scrutiny - it’s a staredown he’ll give. Calm, focused eyes watch him, growing still in the way one might when hiding when lying in wait for prey. He’ll find no squirming here, despite a dark intensity that seems to want to bore inside her and see what her marrow’s made of.   Nothing organic, that’s for sure. What is it you believe me to be? he asks, as if he can’t smell it, hear it, feel the tension between them. Maybe his world is different, maybe they are a dime a dozen, the norm, or hatched from eggs. But here, in Caido, they are few and far between. For a woman who has no family, only acquaintances… and a certain reputation, she finds herself overly eager to make another, more fanged family. In reply to his question, Wessex brings a finger up to her fangs and presses against her sharp teeth, breaking the skin and drawing forth not-blood. After looking at the drop for a moment, the warrior-woman extends her arm and holds her hand out, allowing the drop to roll of her finger and on to the floor. “Ascended,” she finally says, calling him by their own name. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm