You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
Disappointment in this other woman cloys in her throat like smoke, and she squeezes Wessex's hand anew at the embittered tone. "Then she is all the more wrong for it. And there is nothing wrong with being monstrous, not in these times. If all she does is benefit from it, then she is foolish to condemn it anyway." They were on the same side after all, both Ascended, both disciples of The Voice. Who then would shy away, frightened and hateful, of the actions of their demigod who fought on their behalf?
The Wraith's assurances are everything she needs to hear in that moment, and she maneuvers closer to place her head on the woman's arm, cheek brushing cloth just enough to give that moment of connection without being jostled by the pace of their feet. "If you do, I'll be here. And we can be a little fucked up together." A quiet vow in the dying light, a friendship that she prays will make it through what is to come. An acceptance of each other and the dark things they've both done and will be forced to do before this is all through. If it is ever truly through at all.
The Wraith's assurances are everything she needs to hear in that moment, and she maneuvers closer to place her head on the woman's arm, cheek brushing cloth just enough to give that moment of connection without being jostled by the pace of their feet. "If you do, I'll be here. And we can be a little fucked up together." A quiet vow in the dying light, a friendship that she prays will make it through what is to come. An acceptance of each other and the dark things they've both done and will be forced to do before this is all through. If it is ever truly through at all.
