we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Pursing her lips, Wessex considers the question - in the heat of the moment? Her head tilts from one shoulder to the other, remembering some bits very clearly while others are, even now, a bit murky. “There are things said in the heat of a fight - and then there is saying that I am what the people remember and fear. I am the Monster the Voice unleashed. It was meant to bleed to me dry. But I’m still pretty sure she meant it.” Shrugging, Wessex sighs unnecessarily and both figuratively and physically tries to wipe from the forefront of her mind with a wave of her hand.
Listening as they walk, both ears on Hotaru and both eyes on the horizon, the Wraith remains quiet in the rise and fall of her voice, the warmth and deathly cold of it. And you know what? She does not find the fault the Outlander thinks she will find.
“If you think I wouldn’t burn someplace down if it would save us, that I don’t parade my strength for the thrill of it sometimes, or I haven’t killed people who tried to take what was mine -” scoffing loudly, Wessex shakes her head. “You, my Outlandish friend, are sadly mistaken.” Her voice drops and she considers their similarities and their differences. “We’re quite alike. But you’ve had worlds and multiple lives to live - I had the bubble of the Grounds. You’ve seen and done - what? - three times as much as me?” Did it matter, were they truly counting?
A sly smile sneaks up on her. “Maybe I’ll catch up. By the time all this bullshit is said and done.”
Maybe she'll think Wessex a monster then.
Listening as they walk, both ears on Hotaru and both eyes on the horizon, the Wraith remains quiet in the rise and fall of her voice, the warmth and deathly cold of it. And you know what? She does not find the fault the Outlander thinks she will find.
“If you think I wouldn’t burn someplace down if it would save us, that I don’t parade my strength for the thrill of it sometimes, or I haven’t killed people who tried to take what was mine -” scoffing loudly, Wessex shakes her head. “You, my Outlandish friend, are sadly mistaken.” Her voice drops and she considers their similarities and their differences. “We’re quite alike. But you’ve had worlds and multiple lives to live - I had the bubble of the Grounds. You’ve seen and done - what? - three times as much as me?” Did it matter, were they truly counting?
A sly smile sneaks up on her. “Maybe I’ll catch up. By the time all this bullshit is said and done.”
Maybe she'll think Wessex a monster then.
WESSEX
