Arialla doesn't see the warning signs. If she did, maybe she would back down; she doesn't want to die, after all -- at least, not on this beach. But she's too distracted by the bird-thing in the air to take note of Wessex's body language, of the Wraith's tone.
"Well, what else am I meant to call that thing?" Arialla gestures to the hovering creature. She's barely even looking at Wessex. "It's a blight on the world around it. Just like you are."
Now Arialla looks down at Wessex, and her eyes shift as she starts to realize her mistake -- her mistakes. Coming back to the beach was a mistake, offering Wessex any more than a cold shoulder was a mistake, and continuing to insult her shift was most definitely a mistake.
Arialla could apologize, of course. But she's hated too long and too hard for sorry to fall easily from her tongue -- and who knows if it would even placate the Wraith?
please don't take my sunshine away
