I write sins, not tragedies
“My lips are sealed. Isla’d have my head if she knew and I’m not sure anyone else can actually keep a secret.” Intentionally wry or not, the Wraith firmly believes that the two of them are the most ruthless of their kin. This kind of thing isn’t for everyone and she’d rather not sully some perceptions with this very, very blurred line kind of activity.
“No, you get yourself out of there if it goes sideways.” She’ll not leave him totally empty handed and on his own in a land that’ll soon be enemy territory. “That’s an order. Take a teleport before we begin, just in case.”
Once the two of them are through the portal, she reaches for some part of the Hailstorm so they can quickly clear the distance to the Shrine. The sooner this is done, the better, and the Wraith won’t rest easy until Neron (and now that she thinks of it, Kiada) are back home in the Grounds. Sticking out her wrist in what is now a familiar gesture, she grins grimly. “Let’s do this.”
“No, you get yourself out of there if it goes sideways.” She’ll not leave him totally empty handed and on his own in a land that’ll soon be enemy territory. “That’s an order. Take a teleport before we begin, just in case.”
Once the two of them are through the portal, she reaches for some part of the Hailstorm so they can quickly clear the distance to the Shrine. The sooner this is done, the better, and the Wraith won’t rest easy until Neron (and now that she thinks of it, Kiada) are back home in the Grounds. Sticking out her wrist in what is now a familiar gesture, she grins grimly. “Let’s do this.”
WESSEX
