One step forward

Tresspasser. She’s being summoned from her rest. With a sigh and not knowing that the Fae have been selfishly kind (is kind the right word? For saving her from a celestial death only to put her to death themselves?) by erected a shadow, the Ascended rises from one of the beds in the little caves, dons her cloak and after a couple of moments, steps out into the open area. Looking up, she sees that there is a bit of protection, and ends up putting the hood down, so that she might better see what’s above, and conversely, they might better see her. The woman at the top is tiny but fierce and all the weapons, all the matriarchal tradition in Wessex want to recognize the War Chief for the pinnacle of female power that she is - but that would require a different scenario than the one between them. Steady and calm, the tall blonde looks up at her captors, her jury, her potential executioner. There are no words that can sway her case yet, so she chooses to remain quiet and listen - her mind has already spun a hundred different ways this could go. None of them start with blatant arrogance and bravado.  Instead, she waits, everything part of her body on high alert. They will find her much different than their previous captives. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm