Rise from Ruin

Wessex simply smiles a little to herself at his amusement. His Outlanderness is showing, and it’s bright enough to make her want to turn away. He muses and she follows his logic, but can’t say that she knows what he’s talking about other than tidbits of legend and horror stories. No, Wessex has never fed off of anyon, but she’s a newborn for all intents and purposes. A motherless newborn of an endangered species, and it’s either sink or swim. “Well. Power is never given freely. Certainly not power like ours. Ours scares people… and the Gods… the New Gods weren’t stupid when they offered us this.” She shrugs then, half because she hasn’t any insight to their thinking and because it seems fair to her. For a woman who’s had to fight for everything - for life, for freedom, for a living - it seems fair. Archebold makes some quip about manners, but her face remains like stone, watching him, trying to suss out his true intentions. “Wessex.” she says finally, giving only her first name. Not that there are any others with her name out there… but he’s currently on a need-to-know basis. “Yours?” She waits until he offers an answer before popping her next question. “What do you want here?”   WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm