.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
Oizy’s shudder does not go unnoticed. In fact, Wessex’s solemn expression ripples with silently contained amusement. Really, did the big, spikey-headed woman look like the cuddling type? If so, she needed to change that… somehow.
What she does miss is Erebos’ vague look of disapproval as she lets him take the lead. Had she seen it, she would have requested to speak with him after and promptly explained that she is used to letting ranked officers take the lead in certain situations. Protocol is protocol. She would rather be corrected than mistaken, or make a fool of herself later. While they talk of the Marsh, her orange-yellow eyes linger on the miniature raptor, watching it unfurl its wings and she wonders how it perches on Oizys without digging its talons into her flesh. She knows very little about companions themselves, just that some have them and some don’t. She is particularly fond of the sweet leviathan, Nimue (almost as much as she is of their Lady), but knows comparatively little of Erebos’ multi-tailed fox.
What would Wessex’s companion be? But her thoughts are pulled back as Oizys asks a question, and she can’t help but say something. “Keep your body and mind sharp, and you can join me in learning the ins and outs of the Basin,” she says with a glance towards Erebos. “I’m fairly new too. Could do with some company up in the mountains.” It’s almost like she’s offered to take the filly under her tutelage for a bit - which she has - because it’s a win-win situation. Show her value as both a fighter and a trainer, and add a not-complete-and-utter-newbie to the ranks when she is of age.
It just needs their General’s approval.
W E S S E X
@Oizys @Erebos
Sorrrrry I totally spaced and thought this was done! x.x
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --
