WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
It’s true, everything seems to come alive a little more when she’s existing as a kitsune - at least the smells and sounds do. Her ears swivel and her nose twitches, pulling her attention to the approaching person who smells amazing. It’s a combination of a meat-smell to appeal to her animal side and a heady, sex-and-spices smell to her human side, which is probably closest to smelling some fatty, simmering, middle-eastern based dish in the middle of an orgy.
But let’s not linger on that image too long. Someone’s bound to get hurt.
Wessex shifts back to mostly human, wanting to hold on the that luxurious smell for just a little longer. “Neither. Or, well, I don’t know if there’s anyone inside or not. Just… contemplating what-if’s, I suppose.” And, yes, there it is - the hint of sadness she’s trying to squash back done in the presence of someone who has far more claim to melancholy than she does.
But let’s not linger on that image too long. Someone’s bound to get hurt.
Wessex shifts back to mostly human, wanting to hold on the that luxurious smell for just a little longer. “Neither. Or, well, I don’t know if there’s anyone inside or not. Just… contemplating what-if’s, I suppose.” And, yes, there it is - the hint of sadness she’s trying to squash back done in the presence of someone who has far more claim to melancholy than she does.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
the hallelujah
