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Morrighan is an inherently selfish person. While not wholly uncaring towards the rest of the world, she would prioritise herself above much else if it came down to it. She is quite of belief that there is nobody else in this world that is closer to herself than she is - that there is no one to understand her more than she ever would. Even if that understanding is an amalgamation of nothing. Even if ... truly, can she even understand herself? In this very moment, she feels alien in her own skin, as comfortable as she is at the same time - strange to find herself caring for another so much, even as some would argue that Magearna is just scrap metal, put together with no clear intention or purpose no more. The age of kingdoms and fairytales seems much over, and yet, Morrighan's head is full of it.[break]
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And right now, she is taking the Magearna to do one of her favourite acts - shopping. A mundane, normal thing, but she couldn't just let the precious princess wander around with nothing to show - and its mere existence is worthy of celebration, and that's how she wants to go on about it. The colours on its body might have faded, but she is also working on breathing some life back into that, once she'd find a suitable dye that would work with this type of steel. For now, though ... Looking at two types of blue bows, she holds one to each of Magearna's ear-like constructs, "now ... what do you think? Which one do we like more?" The Chatot on her shoulder is as unimpressed and as unhelpful as ever as she contemplates whether or not to take the lighter or darker shade of fabric.

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