I write sins, not tragedies
Ten feet away, but not out of danger. Wessex has sequestered herself away in Kings End, leaning back against a tree to think her way through things, which really just means overanalyze and fume and perhaps talk to herself a bit.
Is she losing it? Not quite. She’s just developed some more neuroses.
A hare appears to her left and as she looks at it, she activates her angry eyes, lasers zeroing in on its body, then its head as it's burned by the lasers, screaming in a very unpleasant way until she silences that, too. Of course she’d heard the lion out there, but as she no longer has much to fear from normally fatal encounters, the Wraith had simply stayed quiet, hoping to wait it out. And if she couldn’t? That’s what teleportation is for.
Either way, her cover is blown. Wessex continues to watch the rabbit from where she is, wondering if she’ll have to fight someone for it, or if she should just leave.
Is she losing it? Not quite. She’s just developed some more neuroses.
A hare appears to her left and as she looks at it, she activates her angry eyes, lasers zeroing in on its body, then its head as it's burned by the lasers, screaming in a very unpleasant way until she silences that, too. Of course she’d heard the lion out there, but as she no longer has much to fear from normally fatal encounters, the Wraith had simply stayed quiet, hoping to wait it out. And if she couldn’t? That’s what teleportation is for.
Either way, her cover is blown. Wessex continues to watch the rabbit from where she is, wondering if she’ll have to fight someone for it, or if she should just leave.
WESSEX
