Children of the Revolution

Ugh. Sam. Wessex lets his statement stand alone. No need to say any more on that subject, he’s accurately summed it up. A waste of a gift. A waste of time. A blemish to their kind, though some might say he’s the only one with redeemable qualities. God, gag her. Nodding in thanks for the offer (one less thing for her to do), she continues, “There’s one guy and his apprentice who makes all our windows. He might be willing to.” She doesn’t care to think about what they’ll do if he won’t. Not getting the upgrade isn’t the end of the world, but she can imagine it might be useful in the future. You never know. Can never have too many party tricks. Decision made, her face curls into a wicked little grin. A jump puts her grip firmly around the first branch, and she hauls herself up, deftly maneuvering around the long claws jutting out from her knuckles. The bough is wide and she is able to easily stand up, reaching along the trunk for another forked junction and scrambling up with a heavy exhale. She continues in this fashion until the limbs seem too weak to bear her weight - finding a decent perch to rest and wait until Lucas finishes his climb as well. Hmm. Not high enough. She may need to cut some limbs down. Or find another way to move them out of the way. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm