W E S S E X
In the moment before the little tree ignites, she feels a bit of regret. But the creature itself doesn’t radiate the kind of happiness the firling last year had. It doesn’t feel… right to her. Wessex winces as it goes up in flames, shrieking like a banshee, the sounds echoing off the high ceilings. “I think so?” she answers, though she’s not sure at all.
“It didn’t seem jolly at all though. Remember how it felt? The eyes were… not that.” The Wraith turns away and calls on her shadows to try and move anything that might also be flammable away from the firling. The smell of wintergreen mingles poorly with the smell of burning pine and ornaments, and she wrinkles her nose, trying to dislodge the combo somehow.
“If there are any Monsters here, it'd attract them in a heartbeat.” It’s meant to be wry, but as soon as she says it, she realizes the truth. Maybe they’ll know sooner rather than later if the Grounds are safe. If the fire is indeed successfully put out, she'll head back towards the Infirmary again.
“It didn’t seem jolly at all though. Remember how it felt? The eyes were… not that.” The Wraith turns away and calls on her shadows to try and move anything that might also be flammable away from the firling. The smell of wintergreen mingles poorly with the smell of burning pine and ornaments, and she wrinkles her nose, trying to dislodge the combo somehow.
“If there are any Monsters here, it'd attract them in a heartbeat.” It’s meant to be wry, but as soon as she says it, she realizes the truth. Maybe they’ll know sooner rather than later if the Grounds are safe. If the fire is indeed successfully put out, she'll head back towards the Infirmary again.
The Wraith
