for there are many ways to kill a man they say
Hmmm… well if it’s an obstacle race cum scavenger hunt that they want, a quick glance around tells Wessex that she’s probably got the athletic part of the competition in the bag. What will really determine it, however, is luck. She’s got to pick the right tunnel, with no outward indication as to what’s going to be inside. A slight scowl inches across her face, but she manages to bite her tongue from the threat that lingers in the back of her throat. How about she poke the bird until it tells her which tunnel is the correct one - or better yet, just give her another magic rock. Let the others scramble like rabbits through the tunnels.
Of course, Wessex does none of this, as it is her against four, who would inevitably step in and the glittering, howling bird would probably just get away… leaving them back at square one. Bah. Fine. She’ll play along.
Listening to the bird’s speech makes her eyes roll, but she nonetheless readies herself somewhat appropriately, taking off behind the two feathered mares for the tunnel they don’t choose. Slower out of the gate than the first two, in the first couple of moments, she draws along a plodding Albrecht at an easy canter, and aims to pass him, shouting back to the odd, old, goat-like stallion, “Come on, Albrecht. I’ll keep you safe.” Because that’s her duty, and it looks like they’re heading for the same tunnel. It's mostly to tease the man, though she's sure he's got some hidden tricks up his seeve. Looks like it’s the Basiners against everyone else.
Her mottled gray body clatters through the opening, slowing when the light fades into semi-darkness, her marks casting a faint, ghostly light to one side, until there is nothing but youth and bravery to urge her onwards.
Wessex chooses Path A
I am Iron and I Forge Myself
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