Nothing like a warm drink

It's Lord of the Flies in my mind tonight

“Ahhh,” she replies thoughtfully. “Then I suppose I’m alright.” The Gods don’t seem to have finite magic, and the Voice has always seemed happy to spread the upgrade wealth around, with very few conditional requests along with it. Placing an empty glass down on the table, she leans back and stretches her hands along the plush arms of the chair, not sure if she wants to settle in or if she needs to head out; this had been a good chat, but there was something nagging her in the back of her head.

“Good choice. And quite useful. I’ve heard that flying is a wonderful feeling.” Not quite like teleporting, but similar. One day the Wraith simply must try that kind of shift, if she has the opportunity.

“Suppose I should go soon,” she ventures with a bit of a frown. “Any other questions I can help you with?” Clarifications, personal thoughts, anything to get them to four pages. really. Aside from her and the Voice’s plans, she’s an open book.