My Precious

And here’s the true point of Wessex’s loathing: the Outander woman continues to justify their actions rather than own up to it. It doesn’t matter that they didn’t want to be there, they knew there were other people living there, and rather than approach and ask permission, they took and took and took. Wessex hisses, potentially blowing cold air on Roana’s neck. That’s all the answer she needs, isn’t it - no human can exhale at that temperature. Wessex won’t engage her in argument. That’s the fatal flaw in all the movies she’s never seen; rather than just doing the deed, rather than demanding and taking, villains (and the occasional hero) stops to talk, loses their focus, yadda yadda yadda. This isn’t a movie - movies don’t exist here, and neither do fairytales, where wrongs can be righted with a simple ‘let’s be friends instead’ request. This is Caido. There are monsters in the night. Monsters with swords, monsters with dicks, monsters without morals, and monsters you think are friends. “If I have to tell you again, I will follow your scent to your home…” Her head moves to snake closer to Roana’s, reaching out with her tongue to lick the woman’s neck if she doesn’t move it. She may not want to, who knows. “... and I will hurt whoever is there.” Understand? WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

Roana