redemption burns hot and bright

Wessex doesn’t speak horse - err, unicorn. Zuriel’s snort earns a look in her direction, but the if the companion has any feelings about her being there, the Wraith is oblivious to it. Her focus is solely on the item at hand. A satisfied, grim expression indicates her approval. “Exactly. Thank you, that’s great.” Verbally signing off on the weapon, it’s all on her if it falls to pieces (it was always going to be on her, but the various decisions she’s had to make lately are growing and growing and seem impossibly high now). While Deimos makes the weapon, her gaze turns inward, contemplating distant actions and possibilities, her hand reaching into a small sack to close around the crystal Remi had made. She knows what’s inside and is loathe to part with it. Some part of her thinks she ought to have used it by now, but… she hasn’t. Hotaru still exists within. Setting it down gently on the table, she watches as it glints and flickers in the firelight. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm