[to say she understood what had happened after everything would be one of the biggest lies morga has ever uttered. something compelled her to return to vesuvia with julian all those months ago. what that was, she didn't know. all she knew and understood that she was there at the masquerade that night. her son returned. julian gone. then montag. there had been no time to grieve, even after the fact when the world began to howl, twist and change. and when the world began to "settle", there was still no time. it had become that much more dangerous, and while she could've — should've — returned south...
she didn't.
part of the reason had been because there was no point to it. if the north had turned so dangerous overnight, the south would've been a deathwish. the other part... morga didn't know what to call whatever it was with julian besides (for lack of a better word) complicated. regardless of what it was, she knew julian still had family in the city. family that she'd been keeping an eye on from a distance despite best efforts to bring her into the fold of survivors proper. in the end, it was the very least she could do to honor his memory.
but then one day, the world un-fucked itself. people began to slowly rebuild their lives, and morga remained. she still kept her distance, but... she was still in vesuvia. she never understood why until the frantic, frightened whispers reached her ears. rumors that a monster yet remained in the city. the guards were better suited to calming people down and stay put, and frankly they still looked to be in rough shape. certainly not suited for fighting monsters, even if morga didn't look much better herself.
tracking it down had been easy enough. people were more than willing to point her in the direction that they'd seen it run.
it's horrifying, a young woman cried. it was black, bigger than any animal i've ever seen and teeth sharper than a bear's.
by the time she reached the woods, she had a vague idea of what to look for. and boy, was it easier to pick up the trail amongst the trees and dirt than it was in the city. protecting people... morga's track record with that was abysmal, no matter how much it pained her to admit it. now, hunting? she was good at that. three days in the forest, and she finds a fresh trail. broken branches. loose feathers. claw marks across bark and in the dirt. and in some instances, even blood. a griffin...? no. no, they were incredibly rare these days, much like the dragons and wyrms of old.
it takes another hour at best to find the "beast" in question. she doesn't have the best view of it, but... she sees it. so, she crouches, spear in hand, and waits. when it finally steps close enough, morga launches herself into the hulking figure's side and knocking it off balance. one foot goes down to pin it, and the tip of her spear sits poised mere inches above the throat as her lip curls into a snarl as she takes in its appearance. it's not as big as a man described it, and it looks more man than animal in the fa...
wait.
wait. wait. wait. those fucking eyes— it can't be. her grip tightens, and she brings the sharp tip closer. please, she asks nothing and nobody in particular. please.]
Who are you? Speak.
[distantly, she's hears a raven having a fit and screaming its tiny little lungs out somewhere above.]
i told u
she didn't.
part of the reason had been because there was no point to it. if the north had turned so dangerous overnight, the south would've been a deathwish. the other part... morga didn't know what to call whatever it was with julian besides (for lack of a better word) complicated. regardless of what it was, she knew julian still had family in the city. family that she'd been keeping an eye on from a distance despite best efforts to bring her into the fold of survivors proper. in the end, it was the very least she could do to honor his memory.
but then one day, the world un-fucked itself. people began to slowly rebuild their lives, and morga remained. she still kept her distance, but... she was still in vesuvia. she never understood why until the frantic, frightened whispers reached her ears. rumors that a monster yet remained in the city. the guards were better suited to calming people down and stay put, and frankly they still looked to be in rough shape. certainly not suited for fighting monsters, even if morga didn't look much better herself.
tracking it down had been easy enough. people were more than willing to point her in the direction that they'd seen it run.
it's horrifying, a young woman cried. it was black, bigger than any animal i've ever seen and teeth sharper than a bear's.
by the time she reached the woods, she had a vague idea of what to look for. and boy, was it easier to pick up the trail amongst the trees and dirt than it was in the city. protecting people... morga's track record with that was abysmal, no matter how much it pained her to admit it. now, hunting? she was good at that. three days in the forest, and she finds a fresh trail. broken branches. loose feathers. claw marks across bark and in the dirt. and in some instances, even blood. a griffin...? no. no, they were incredibly rare these days, much like the dragons and wyrms of old.
it takes another hour at best to find the "beast" in question. she doesn't have the best view of it, but... she sees it. so, she crouches, spear in hand, and waits. when it finally steps close enough, morga launches herself into the hulking figure's side and knocking it off balance. one foot goes down to pin it, and the tip of her spear sits poised mere inches above the throat as her lip curls into a snarl as she takes in its appearance. it's not as big as a man described it, and it looks more man than animal in the fa...
wait.
wait. wait. wait. those fucking eyes— it can't be. her grip tightens, and she brings the sharp tip closer. please, she asks nothing and nobody in particular. please.]
Who are you? Speak.
[distantly, she's hears a raven having a fit and screaming its tiny little lungs out somewhere above.]