[ wanda peers up when she hears someone addressing her, momentarily raising her arms like she's prepared to go on the defensive; she can't help it with how often people seem intent on fighting her lately. but there's nothing threatening in his stance or his voice, and she listens carefully to what he tells her — something about a different earth, about different powers.
looking down at her hands, she tries to focus on what she feels within — a bit weaker, maybe, but it's hers, everything inside of her, it's still hers.
holding her palms out at her side, red magic blossoms from her hands, aiding her in lifting her feet off the ground, floating up with ease into the air as she guides herself up out of the crater and onto solid ground near her welcome committee.
she looks at him with a raised brow. ] I think I'm covered on the powers. But what's this about a Confluence?
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looking down at her hands, she tries to focus on what she feels within — a bit weaker, maybe, but it's hers, everything inside of her, it's still hers.
holding her palms out at her side, red magic blossoms from her hands, aiding her in lifting her feet off the ground, floating up with ease into the air as she guides herself up out of the crater and onto solid ground near her welcome committee.
she looks at him with a raised brow. ] I think I'm covered on the powers. But what's this about a Confluence?