W E S S E X
It’s nothing like what Wessex expects and when two gold and red balls hurtle her way, she’s too surprised to even try to dodge them. “The fuck? -” she yells, batting at the glitter cloud that seems to explode from the ball (hey, at least she can’t choke on it), from her, and the new, overwhelming smell. Unable to see the change in her nose, she can only wrinkle it in annoyance at the wintergreen.
“No fucking clue,” she grumbles in agreement with the Overseer. And as Isla bristles against whatever lurks in the darkness, Wessex spots the pair of eyes too and tries to target whatever it is (certainly not Ascended) with her lasers.
“No fucking clue,” she grumbles in agreement with the Overseer. And as Isla bristles against whatever lurks in the darkness, Wessex spots the pair of eyes too and tries to target whatever it is (certainly not Ascended) with her lasers.
The Wraith
