WESSEX
the wraith
Neron is here? No, Neron should be at home. The two thoughts make her scrunch up her face, very much like a child trying to figure out if what they’ve heard is upsetting enough to warrant a cry, or if she should just pout about. Apparently she chooses pouting for now, feeling too tired to do anything about it. It’s been a long night, emotionally and physically, and whatever this is seems to affect even the hardiest of them. Wessex doesn’t yawn - because she doesn’t need oxygen - but she does look noticeably weary, her eyes doing that half-flutter of ‘trying not to fall asleep.’
Chulane’s words sound far away. “I need the metal,” she says, “to figure out -” no, that’s not it, she isn’t figuring anything out. “To show -” mmm, yes, that’s more apt. Show who? Who? “Why so tired?” she mumbles, her body flaring up with something and no longer cool to the touch.
“Hot,” the Wraith exhales, with her eyes closed, discomfort evident. Too hot. She needs to get outside.
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
