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

Morrigan hummed, Death tends to do strange things to ones mind. So perhaps, this fresh start is for the best. Not that Morrigan had ever had a near-death experience, looking as she did despite her actual age. She made a sound, chuckling at herself. Grey wardens did seem to find her, didn't they? Perhaps she had a type...

Well, I'm an advisor to the Orlesian throne, and to Ferelden I'm a threat a Witch of the Kocari Wilds, like my mother before me. She could hear Flemeth's noise of disgust that her daughter would merely describe herself as standing in the original witch's shadow. But she ignored her, for now. Flemeth was a quiet possessor. I'm a daughter of Flemeth. Like those old legends? She added, helpfully.