Children of the Revolution

She scoffs. “I might. But then everyone else I liked died.” A shrug of her shoulders indicates her feelings about the whole situation. It was a damn shame that three of them died in the Spire. There are residual feelings of guilt about not going in, but she ultimately isn’t crying about it. They made their choices. She made hers. For better or worse, they’re stuck with each other and can commiserate on their mutual dislike of both Sam and Bastien. Nothing like a shared distaste to bring people together, amiright? The bouncing lights float alongside them for awhile, and Wessex is tempted to try and follow one, but she can’t tell whether or not they’re decorational or useful, in the way that she remembers birds to be purely pretty and doing their own thing. She glances over to Lucas, sighing softly as she makes a concession. He has a point. “Probably should touch base soon… I’m working on getting some materials so she can upgrade my eyes, but we could go back sooner.” She tends to be a one-thing-at-a-time kind of person, but then again, they do seem to be the only truly loyal ones left. She passes the threshold of the trees and watches the squirrels, a fox, and some nocturnal birds regard them with a mild curiosity. A hissing above her draws her attention, and she narrows her eyes - are those snakes above them? Weird. But not… dangerous. Not yet. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm