WESSEX
the wraith
Sure, they’ll get through it, but at what cost? She shakes her head - not in denial, though it is in a way - because her body is not her own and this is what the Blight felt like, isn’t it? She’d done that too. No, her head shakes in despair as the Wraith begins to spiral down into an existential crisis. “I’m dangerous, Chulane. Gods, I’m lucky I haven’t hallucinated a friend into an enemy.” Her gaze falls upon her hands and she clenches them, releasing to stare at her unchanging fingertips. “Or touched fire. It would -” she has to look away as she forces the words out, “Sam and Neron and Nate. Amun. They would -”
Die. They would die. She would die.
And then the rest of the Ascended would die, picked off by the Old Gods.
“I have to fix it.” The Wraith’s voice sounds strangely thin and plaintive, child-like, even. A girl whining instead of a woman made of action. Or is a question, a plea? She begins to fixate on a spot on the floor, picking at a sliver of wood with her nail.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
