. . . dare to speak to me . . . BY Morrigan

Morrigan hummed, nodding thoughtfully. Unfortunate. Guess you need to make new memories. She shrugged, grinning widely at the girl.

Sweet, amnesiac. This woman had a new attempt at life. Though she suspected it must be strange to have people know you without remembering them.

So you're part of the Protectorate, then? One could ask the same of Morrigan, considering she was here often enough.