Apologies for the Interruption

Adaria grew amused, yet it was a smile that gave neither an answer or indication to what part of Morrigan’s question did so. [color=#9a00b2]“It’s so refreshing to meet someone who knows our line's importance, but,”[/color] a brow arched, [color=#9a00b2]“legacies are not all made by blood. Preferred, yes, but it's not necessarily dependent on it. Some are scourge.”[/color] She could count her own in some branches of their past and present tree, yet they had all been and were weak in character compared to the main branch. [color=#9a00b2]“I do intend to trim the diseased ones, in due time.”[/color]

Despite the dreamstate, Adaria frowned at being touched, she was standoffish, not touchy feely. [color=#9a00b2]“I find deception to be only useful on the weak minded. Morrigan of the Wilds, is not weak minded.”[/color] Fact, not flattery. Neither did she acknowledge the rare praise from the witch, only remaining still and patiently waiting on an answer.

While the task set before her aligned in some degree to her own, it was on a much grander scale. A pitched chuckle escaped, brows shrugged as she thought over it. There was little hesitation, only some posing questions. [color=#9a00b2]“I assume you mean the one they call Elgar-nan? The one who truly murdered my father. That is amenable. He considers my Mother his ‘pet’ so depriving him of her could cause him to slip…”[/color] so many ways… so little time to choose.