float away, open wide
Isra is leaving.
Morrighan has still not yet processed this fact. Change has never been something she's dealt with well. For the majority of her life, everything was the same. She had control over it, but now it feels like she can barely control anything. It's like she's an ember that sparks and quickly erupts into a raging wildfire.
She walks the market streets, which she finds herself doing more often as of late. Maybe it's all the noise. The roaring of the crowd and hooves against cobblestone do a good job of drowning out the ringing in her ears and her worst thoughts. Fire can only do so much after a while.
Typically she has no other purpose here than to wander and maybe browse some of the merchant tables. Her eyes still find themselves landing on an array of weapons, but none truly call to her. Perhaps she's too used to her magic as a weapon and the idea of using a physical one is foreign. Although, it is appealing to have something that could cut flesh.
But suddenly, it's become a good thing that she's here today. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices a young teen stash one of the smaller knives in his bag while the merchant has his back turned. Idiot merchant, for one, but when the teen dashes off, Morrighan is quick to follow.
It does not take long for her to catch up to him after her pursuit and the boy is flustered. "Where do you think you're going?" she asks him, her anger clearly showing in her expression and by the fire beneath her.
"U-uhh.. I-I was just.." he stutters, barely able to spit out any actual words. Morrighan rolls her eyes and pushes him back in the direction of the merchant tent.
"Let's go, you stupid delinquent," she grumbles and drags the boy back to where he had stolen from. When they arrive, the merchant is frantic, but his expression turns to disappointment as he eyes the teen.
"Hand it over," Morrighan demands and the boy reluctantly places the knife on the table in front of the merchant. He avoids eye contact. She knows she should make him apologize, but she doesn't feel like being Warden and Mom today.
"I better not see your sorry ass out here again, understand?" is all she says and the boy nods, trembling in fear. Morr releases him and he takes off to leave the markets. Hopefully he won't ever think to try and pull that shit again.
"Thank you Warden, I owe you one," the merchant says with gratitude.
"Just doing my job. Let me know if he comes back. He'll be sorry," she says, gesturing what she'd do by igniting a flame at her feet. She's pretty confident that the boy won't be back though.
At least, while she's never been good about change, she's made a name for herself here. She has a purpose. And others are scared of her. Or hate her.
It's a rewarding feeling.
@Antiope <3
"Speaking."
unafraid with open eyes
Isra is leaving.
Morrighan has still not yet processed this fact. Change has never been something she's dealt with well. For the majority of her life, everything was the same. She had control over it, but now it feels like she can barely control anything. It's like she's an ember that sparks and quickly erupts into a raging wildfire.
She walks the market streets, which she finds herself doing more often as of late. Maybe it's all the noise. The roaring of the crowd and hooves against cobblestone do a good job of drowning out the ringing in her ears and her worst thoughts. Fire can only do so much after a while.
Typically she has no other purpose here than to wander and maybe browse some of the merchant tables. Her eyes still find themselves landing on an array of weapons, but none truly call to her. Perhaps she's too used to her magic as a weapon and the idea of using a physical one is foreign. Although, it is appealing to have something that could cut flesh.
But suddenly, it's become a good thing that she's here today. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices a young teen stash one of the smaller knives in his bag while the merchant has his back turned. Idiot merchant, for one, but when the teen dashes off, Morrighan is quick to follow.
It does not take long for her to catch up to him after her pursuit and the boy is flustered. "Where do you think you're going?" she asks him, her anger clearly showing in her expression and by the fire beneath her.
"U-uhh.. I-I was just.." he stutters, barely able to spit out any actual words. Morrighan rolls her eyes and pushes him back in the direction of the merchant tent.
"Let's go, you stupid delinquent," she grumbles and drags the boy back to where he had stolen from. When they arrive, the merchant is frantic, but his expression turns to disappointment as he eyes the teen.
"Hand it over," Morrighan demands and the boy reluctantly places the knife on the table in front of the merchant. He avoids eye contact. She knows she should make him apologize, but she doesn't feel like being Warden and Mom today.
"I better not see your sorry ass out here again, understand?" is all she says and the boy nods, trembling in fear. Morr releases him and he takes off to leave the markets. Hopefully he won't ever think to try and pull that shit again.
"Thank you Warden, I owe you one," the merchant says with gratitude.
"Just doing my job. Let me know if he comes back. He'll be sorry," she says, gesturing what she'd do by igniting a flame at her feet. She's pretty confident that the boy won't be back though.
At least, while she's never been good about change, she's made a name for herself here. She has a purpose. And others are scared of her. Or hate her.
It's a rewarding feeling.
@Antiope <3
