take me home before the storm

morrigan Morrigan's gaze drops to the wound that she displays, though her critical gaze does not soften. So it seems she has already experienced the hardships that come along with inhabiting a place like the Rift. She finds it difficult to sympathize; part of her wants to spit, 'that's what you get for-' what? For being a child, unfamiliar with the dangerous monsters that lurk in the shadows? 'No, for wandering out alone,' a little voice inside her head hisses. 'Serves her right for wandering away from her parents!' But that seems almost too harsh to say, even for a woman like Morrigan. So in the end, she settles for a simple, "That's unfortunate." But the girl's next reply somehow rubs her the wrong way, her skin prickling with aggression. She's clever - that much is very obvious. The sylph-like woman feels slightly threatened by her younger companion now, and she knows why: it is the wholeness of her youthful body, in combination with a sharp mind. It reminds Morrigan of a younger version of herself - a complete version. This girl in front of her is a masterpiece in the works, there isn't a doubt about that. She can already see the magnificence that lies beneath her muscles, and it aggravates her insecurities, her deep inadequacies that gnaw at her soul and leave her with a grossly inflated sense of jealousy. "Hm. That is true." Her initial reply is short and simple. There is a brief pause before she speaks again, "but there is some truth to the saying, wouldn't you agree? Safety in numbers?" The small talk pains her, but Morrigan figures she can at least keep the conversation going until the storm passes - perhaps then she can be on her way, retreating back into the delicate life of solitude she has built for herself. "How long have you been in the Rift?" on a bed of spiderweb i think of how to change myself

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