dont know where the lights are taking us
but something in the night is dangerous
but something in the night is dangerous
If the knowledge of inflicting pain can’t be satisfactory, the thwump of one of them burying itself in his abdomen is. Fully expecting that force field to go up, Wessex waits for a moment while he panics, calling himself not dangerous, and she scoffs. Dropping to the ground like some kind of video-game assassin, the demigod stands and stares at the bookmaker. “Our dead siblings would like to beg otherwise,” she says quietly. There’s a moment where she considers just killing him outright, but the Voice’s words stay her hands, the very hands that itch at her sides, ready to flex and skewer him with her talons.
But she doesn’t. Or doesn’t yet. Instead, she stands and demands, “defend yourself.” The angry demigod means with his staff, of course, but then her instructions were hardly clear and precise, and she remains weapons-free for now, confident that she could take him without wielding another blade.
But she doesn’t. Or doesn’t yet. Instead, she stands and demands, “defend yourself.” The angry demigod means with his staff, of course, but then her instructions were hardly clear and precise, and she remains weapons-free for now, confident that she could take him without wielding another blade.
