WESSEX
As much as she kind of enjoys the idea of a lust filled and potentially sexually confused Loren (his sex life is none of her business, she’ll never ask), there are things to do and time is short. She shakes her head to clear the residual feelings of longing and desire and holds her hands out in a very cliche ‘sorcerer’ move. A couple of moments pass until she’s sure she’s ready to summon this potential death-bird. Wessex imagines placing the Sparkbird as far from her as possible and then conjures up the image of the beautiful bird she saw the year before. Her brow furrows and her jaw clenches, but eventually a creature appears from the distance, coming to stop a ‘safe’ distance from the two of them. It does nothing but blink at them, small and pitiful compared to the real thing, but it is there. Real. Bathing them in a very faint light. And sparking, so it’s a good thing she holds it away from them.
Without getting disracted by breathing or other physical needs, Wessex is able to hold it there for a surprising amount of time before some noise or other thing pulls her concentration. Then the bird leaves - or vanishes - and the darkness is still again.
“Okay,” she says quietly, looking back at Loren. Okay. She can do it. She can’t save the whole damn settlement, but she could maybe do something for a couple of people. Who aren’t Ascended.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
