I write sins, not tragedies
Loki finds the pair - the shaman and the corpse - and if Wessex had to hazard a guess, it’s because of the smell of the flesh that’s starting to turn. The days must still be warm enough out here to allow a body to begin to decompose. The air still smells like a crisp Leafchange day to her, but she knows that others aren’t so lucky to have a dulled sense of smell in times like these.
Finding the other busy with something in the ground, Wessex isn’t even aware that she’s dealing with a body at first, having thought that Loki might have just found another person out here. She’s good like that. Half hound and half dragon, it seems, the ebony-scaled companion is her most valued partner. So it makes sense that Wessex calls out brightly to the other, “Hello!” as she approaches. It’s hard to mistake that mask and antlers for anyone other than one of the people she’d seen helping with the Spire.
As the demigod comes closer, she’s able to make out the shallow hole and a glimpse of a hand. A handful of painful scenarios come to mind, and all she can think is, please don’t let it be Ascended. She’s had just about enough family death as she can take right now.
“What are you doing?” she asks, this time, far less enthusiastically.
Finding the other busy with something in the ground, Wessex isn’t even aware that she’s dealing with a body at first, having thought that Loki might have just found another person out here. She’s good like that. Half hound and half dragon, it seems, the ebony-scaled companion is her most valued partner. So it makes sense that Wessex calls out brightly to the other, “Hello!” as she approaches. It’s hard to mistake that mask and antlers for anyone other than one of the people she’d seen helping with the Spire.
As the demigod comes closer, she’s able to make out the shallow hole and a glimpse of a hand. A handful of painful scenarios come to mind, and all she can think is, please don’t let it be Ascended. She’s had just about enough family death as she can take right now.
“What are you doing?” she asks, this time, far less enthusiastically.
WESSEX
