but this hunger, it isn't you

random event Laughter tinkles across the Sea of Glass, like a glass shattering, like a bell chime. The wind whispers about Wessex, picking up and playing with the Wraith, nipping at fingers that do not feel the cold and ruffling up her hair. There is a sound - a snapping of fingers, a cracking of ice - and the snow crunches behind the Ascended. "My, my, my. What are you, sweet one?" The voice seems dual - lows and highs mingling together - and the creature that looms behind Wessex is female-shaped (and then some) and scantily clad in ice and silver. The Eirachi regards her with eyes like gold and sapphire; it is a gaze that burns and freezes, seemingly at the same time. Full lips part in a grin filled with sharp teeth. "You have questions. What price are the answers?"