we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Rolling her eyes a bit at what sounds like drama in his voice, Wessex nevertheless holds her position on her hill until Nate’s face rises like a ghost from the dark depths of the mounds - and then his hobbling body follows. She frowns. That isn’t supposed to happen. “Uh - no, not quite.” she calls back, before turning and jogging down the hill back to him.
‘Close’ is relevant. Close for her, yes. Maybe not close enough for him and whatever injury he’s sustained.
“What happened?” she asks, still looking concerned. Obviously something happened, and Wessex reaches out to do - what? Comfort? Analyze? Teleport? She’s not the medical professional here, she just knows she has ways to fix it.
‘Close’ is relevant. Close for her, yes. Maybe not close enough for him and whatever injury he’s sustained.
“What happened?” she asks, still looking concerned. Obviously something happened, and Wessex reaches out to do - what? Comfort? Analyze? Teleport? She’s not the medical professional here, she just knows she has ways to fix it.
WESSEX
