tit for tat

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Red lichen collected, she pushes the events (be they good or bad) at Crimson Cataract from her mind and thinks only to the future. It’s a decent ways from the Greatwood to the glass smithy, taking the better part of the early and late evening. Arriving at the compound again, as the sky turns a brilliant royal purple, Wessex waits at the gate as the dogs announce her presence. She holds a little leather drawstring bag in her hand, full of the novelty plant Lanoch requested. Time to trade. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul