we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
If only Maeve knew that Wessex doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what she’s got in the basket or making, so long as it isn’t poisonous and won’t fuck up her people. Perfume. Herbs. Potpourri. The Madame could have it all and the Queen would likely just give her the same reaction: oh, that’s nice.
And since she isn’t really pawing through anything, the older blonde really does nod, the information going in one ear and out the other. “Oh, that’s nice. Perfume’s always seemed like such a luxury to me. Is it easy to make?” It’s so outside her realm of expertise that for a moment, Wessex is really, truly curious.
Until her question isn’t directly answered. Offerings for the heralds would be quite specific, and finding a toy or game out here for Ludo isn’t likely. Her guess is Frey or Safrin for the Madame, with Sex!Frey coming to the forefront. But who has anything bad to say about Sex!Frey? Quiet for a long moment, the demigod once again hurls her rock out into the water, where it skips four times before sinking to the bottom. A small, satisfied grin flashes across her face before she turns back to the young woman and her question.
Did she really not know who Wessex was? “Have you ever thought to heed the warnings? If there’s always something bad to be said, perhaps what they're saying is true.”
And since she isn’t really pawing through anything, the older blonde really does nod, the information going in one ear and out the other. “Oh, that’s nice. Perfume’s always seemed like such a luxury to me. Is it easy to make?” It’s so outside her realm of expertise that for a moment, Wessex is really, truly curious.
Until her question isn’t directly answered. Offerings for the heralds would be quite specific, and finding a toy or game out here for Ludo isn’t likely. Her guess is Frey or Safrin for the Madame, with Sex!Frey coming to the forefront. But who has anything bad to say about Sex!Frey? Quiet for a long moment, the demigod once again hurls her rock out into the water, where it skips four times before sinking to the bottom. A small, satisfied grin flashes across her face before she turns back to the young woman and her question.
Did she really not know who Wessex was? “Have you ever thought to heed the warnings? If there’s always something bad to be said, perhaps what they're saying is true.”
WESSEX
