WESSEX
Wessex doesn’t have a baking bone in her body. Making some travel bread and charring some meat? Yeah, she can manage that. It’s edible, but there’s a reason she wasn’t usually elected the group’s cook on hunting expeditions.
The scent of baked goods hits her like a punch in the gut. Her heart says Amalia, but her head says yeah fuckin’ right. A quick check tells her the Devas Bakery is still shuttered, so it must be someone else… and to her shame, she doesn’t remember that Lilliane is a baker. Not yet, at least. Not when the newest Outlander isn’t standing right in front of her. The wafting aroma, however, is so lovely that she follows her nose to an open door and when Lilliane is visible again, she calls out with a cheerful wave of her hand, “Lilliane! You have no idea how long it’s been since we smelled something like this.”
Her words might be a little sad, but her face is forced into something happy. As if the recent past hadn’t happened at all.
The scent of baked goods hits her like a punch in the gut. Her heart says Amalia, but her head says yeah fuckin’ right. A quick check tells her the Devas Bakery is still shuttered, so it must be someone else… and to her shame, she doesn’t remember that Lilliane is a baker. Not yet, at least. Not when the newest Outlander isn’t standing right in front of her. The wafting aroma, however, is so lovely that she follows her nose to an open door and when Lilliane is visible again, she calls out with a cheerful wave of her hand, “Lilliane! You have no idea how long it’s been since we smelled something like this.”
Her words might be a little sad, but her face is forced into something happy. As if the recent past hadn’t happened at all.
there was a time that we were kind, but now
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
