A LITTLE MAYHEM NEVER HURT ANYONE
Grueling tensions // Want me in a spiral // I'm waiting to unravel // Twisted motives // Drive me in a circle // I'm dying to untangle
His excitement of her promotion surprises her. Here she is practically questioning the entirety of his being and he is suddenly happy for her. Morrighan is so taken aback, she hesitates and just blinks at him a few times.
"Well, thanks," she finally says, her tone unchanging. Being acknowledged for such an accomplishment didn't exactly feel bad, but no one had actually congratulated her before. For anything. It makes her feel confused on what to feel.
When Michael finally speaks of his rank, he doesn't bother to linger on the subject as long as she wanted him to. A storyteller is not specific - it didn't even sound like a real rank for that matter. She knows the artists of Denocte, but is that really their true purpose? Surely they had more use to the Court than that.
But no, he seems much more fixated on the damn wolf and finding him. Unfortunately, he has a point when he says she's the Warden and they should find Bram if he'll be a problem. Yes, she probably should make sure the mongrel isn't still on Court lands to cause any trouble. It's just that she has a feeling he'll be her trouble and not anyone else's. They have a connection after all and he has no reason to be anywhere else. Clearly.
"Fine," is all she says and stomps forward, adding in the classic eye roll. It wouldn't hurt to patrol and this way at least she'd have an extra set of eyes.
They enter the woods and the sunlight is shrouded by the cover of the trees and the shadows envelope the pair. As her eyes adjust, she looks around and feels tempted to set the whole forest on fire. She could chase him out that way and let the smoke fill his lungs until they burn. Unfortunately, she knows that wouldn't be enough to keep him away and then she'd probably be fired for, well, her fire.
Morrighan tries to keep her magic at bay, although she can feel it twisting inside her and begging to be set free. It fed off her frustration and so badly wanted to destroy things in their path. For now, there are just burned hoofprints in the undergrowth and the faint scent of char. Of course, there is no sign of Bram either. With his dark coat and stealth skills, he could be anywhere by now.
"So, a bad storyteller, huh?" she asks, bringing back up the topic of his rank. "Try me. Tell me a story." It's somewhat of a challenge since part of her is wondering just how bad of a storyteller he actually is. Then again, it'd probably take many tries from even the most skilled of storytellers to keep Morrighan's attention from beginning to end. Unless the story is about fire, then they might be lucky.
@Michael <3"Speaking."
"Well, thanks," she finally says, her tone unchanging. Being acknowledged for such an accomplishment didn't exactly feel bad, but no one had actually congratulated her before. For anything. It makes her feel confused on what to feel.
When Michael finally speaks of his rank, he doesn't bother to linger on the subject as long as she wanted him to. A storyteller is not specific - it didn't even sound like a real rank for that matter. She knows the artists of Denocte, but is that really their true purpose? Surely they had more use to the Court than that.
But no, he seems much more fixated on the damn wolf and finding him. Unfortunately, he has a point when he says she's the Warden and they should find Bram if he'll be a problem. Yes, she probably should make sure the mongrel isn't still on Court lands to cause any trouble. It's just that she has a feeling he'll be her trouble and not anyone else's. They have a connection after all and he has no reason to be anywhere else. Clearly.
"Fine," is all she says and stomps forward, adding in the classic eye roll. It wouldn't hurt to patrol and this way at least she'd have an extra set of eyes.
They enter the woods and the sunlight is shrouded by the cover of the trees and the shadows envelope the pair. As her eyes adjust, she looks around and feels tempted to set the whole forest on fire. She could chase him out that way and let the smoke fill his lungs until they burn. Unfortunately, she knows that wouldn't be enough to keep him away and then she'd probably be fired for, well, her fire.
Morrighan tries to keep her magic at bay, although she can feel it twisting inside her and begging to be set free. It fed off her frustration and so badly wanted to destroy things in their path. For now, there are just burned hoofprints in the undergrowth and the faint scent of char. Of course, there is no sign of Bram either. With his dark coat and stealth skills, he could be anywhere by now.
"So, a bad storyteller, huh?" she asks, bringing back up the topic of his rank. "Try me. Tell me a story." It's somewhat of a challenge since part of her is wondering just how bad of a storyteller he actually is. Then again, it'd probably take many tries from even the most skilled of storytellers to keep Morrighan's attention from beginning to end. Unless the story is about fire, then they might be lucky.
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