WESSEX
Belril. Sounds vaguely foreign, though the names of Caidonites vary from her own odd moniker to much easier ones like Henry Walker. Wessex stays where she is after the boy gets up, thinking of him a bit like a skittish colt right now - she has to prove she isn’t going to hurt him. “No. I’ve seen you around and am curious.” The reassuring look she flashes him may have the barest hint of fangs in it, but it by no means is meant to be a threat. “I spent most of my life here and I was wondering if my memory was failing or if you’re new to the Grounds.” There have obviously been orphans before, people squatting in the ruins; but a community of a couple thousand people isn’t that big in the long run. You get to know faces, even if you don’t know names.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
