The Mockingjay
Kage in the Making 👑
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Believe the Legend. Beware the Wolf.
Basic Information
Name: Morgana
Nickname: Little Red, Red Riding Hood
Gender:
Age: 19
Clan: Nekura
Nickname: Little Red, Red Riding Hood
Gender:
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FemaleAge: 19
Clan: Nekura
Looks:
Morgana is a girl with small build (5"3) and a natural innocence to her face. She appears as a sweet girl with a pretty face. That was the description of her face before the attack however, after being ravaged by wolves in her teens Morgana was left with a scar over her left eye, the scar being formed of three claw marks. The scratches upon her eyes had left her once crystal blue eyes tainted red. Believing that the scars had wiped her face of beauty Morgana wears her long dark hair loose, allowing it to fall freely over her scarred eye. On top of hiding behind the hair Morgana is also very rarely seen without the cover of her hood, a hood which sprouts from the body of her long blood red cloak, the cloak wraps round her entire body and reaches longer than her feet, often leaving it to drag along the ground as she walks, although this does not impact her movement in battle. Beneath the cloak her bare legs are barely covered by a pair of dark jean shorts and her feet remain bare on most occasions, her torso lies beneath a black vest.
Not wanting to show her scarred face to the world Morgana tends to spend her time in the form of a pure black wolf, although, even in this form the scars are still present over her right eye. So attached to this wolf form even while human she is said to 'cast a wolfs shadow'.
Personality:
Once sweet and sensitive as her appearance would suggest, Morgana went through a huge change due to circumstances in her life. She is an extremely secretive person and prefers to remain confined to the shadows rather than putting herself into clear view, she holds a grudge against people after being frequently judged and ridiculed for the scars on her face, this ridicule brought forth a great anger inside Morgana, she became unable to trust others and found it hard to make friends because of fear they would merely leave her. As well as a loss of trust Morgana began to hate her own appearance, this leading her to wearing the cloak when she went out.
Growing up with the wolves, Morgana has developed a rather sadistic side, she holds an inner bloodlust which often becomes prevalent in the face of other shinobi, although she has learnt to suppress this for the most part. Unwilling to allow people to get close to her for a long period in her life, Morgana developed a manipulative streak, she'd often use people for her gain before casting them off, feeling that they would just do the same to her anyway. Despite these obvious bad traits, Morgana's time with the wolves led her to gain a keen sense of teamwork and understand the importance of teamwork in certain situations, therefore she is able to communicate in this aspect should she be able to.
Morgana is a girl with small build (5"3) and a natural innocence to her face. She appears as a sweet girl with a pretty face. That was the description of her face before the attack however, after being ravaged by wolves in her teens Morgana was left with a scar over her left eye, the scar being formed of three claw marks. The scratches upon her eyes had left her once crystal blue eyes tainted red. Believing that the scars had wiped her face of beauty Morgana wears her long dark hair loose, allowing it to fall freely over her scarred eye. On top of hiding behind the hair Morgana is also very rarely seen without the cover of her hood, a hood which sprouts from the body of her long blood red cloak, the cloak wraps round her entire body and reaches longer than her feet, often leaving it to drag along the ground as she walks, although this does not impact her movement in battle. Beneath the cloak her bare legs are barely covered by a pair of dark jean shorts and her feet remain bare on most occasions, her torso lies beneath a black vest.Not wanting to show her scarred face to the world Morgana tends to spend her time in the form of a pure black wolf, although, even in this form the scars are still present over her right eye. So attached to this wolf form even while human she is said to 'cast a wolfs shadow'.
Personality:
Once sweet and sensitive as her appearance would suggest, Morgana went through a huge change due to circumstances in her life. She is an extremely secretive person and prefers to remain confined to the shadows rather than putting herself into clear view, she holds a grudge against people after being frequently judged and ridiculed for the scars on her face, this ridicule brought forth a great anger inside Morgana, she became unable to trust others and found it hard to make friends because of fear they would merely leave her. As well as a loss of trust Morgana began to hate her own appearance, this leading her to wearing the cloak when she went out.
Growing up with the wolves, Morgana has developed a rather sadistic side, she holds an inner bloodlust which often becomes prevalent in the face of other shinobi, although she has learnt to suppress this for the most part. Unwilling to allow people to get close to her for a long period in her life, Morgana developed a manipulative streak, she'd often use people for her gain before casting them off, feeling that they would just do the same to her anyway. Despite these obvious bad traits, Morgana's time with the wolves led her to gain a keen sense of teamwork and understand the importance of teamwork in certain situations, therefore she is able to communicate in this aspect should she be able to.
Village Info
Village of Birth: N/A
Village of Alliance:
Village of Alliance:
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Kirigakure
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Rank//Chakra Info
Ninja Rank: Kage
Specialty:
Genjutsu (Faster Handseals)
Water (Single Handseal)
Sound
Elements:
Water - Mastered
Fire - Mastered
Wind - Mastered
Earth - Mastered
Lightning - Mastered
Your ninjutsu:
Ninjutsu - Mastered
Genjutsu - Mastered
Taijutsu - Completed
Perfume Release
Sound Release
Specialty:
Genjutsu (Faster Handseals)
Water (Single Handseal)
Sound
Elements:
Water - Mastered
Fire - Mastered
Wind - Mastered
Earth - Mastered
Lightning - Mastered
Your ninjutsu:
Ninjutsu - Mastered
Genjutsu - Mastered
Taijutsu - Completed
Perfume Release
Sound Release
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Background Info
History:
History:
Day One
On June 11th 1994 travelling merchant couple Morgose and Uther were blessed with the one true gift of god when their daughter was born in perfect health. The baby entered the world in the back of a sales wagon as it sat idly within the cool breeze created by the towering trees that built up the forested area around it. The couple did well, they looked after the baby as any parent was expected to despite the constant travelling that their jobs forced upon them, some days were spent curled up under the roof of an inn, when others would be spent entirely on the road, rolling restlessly across the harsh terrains provided by the ninja world. From the mist covered oceans of Kirigakure to the intense heats of Sunagakure's vast deserts, the family could not be stopped, they went about their business as if it were nothing. The same routine continued on through the early years of Morgana's life, when she reached eight years old her parents began to teach her basic ninja skills, they were not highly skilled ninja themselves, but they had knowledge to spare and would give their everything to their daughter in order for her to survive the world. Eventually, the two ran dry of knowledge and began to travel less and less, allowing Morgana to study in many different ninja academy's around the world, moving schools as they travelled was not the greatest provider of education, but Morgana was smart, she learnt quickly, and it gave her the opportunity to train (although for short periods) under many of the best sensei from around the world Azazel of Iwagakure, Lili-Chwan of Kirigakure, Former Hokage of Konoha McRazor, even Vision, a member of the rogue group Akatsuki agreed to teach the child when the family stumbled across him on their travels, these to name but a few.
The End of the Beginning
It was mere days since her thirteenth birthday when Morgana and her family set of from their temporary stall in Kumogakure, they headed down the rocky mountain paths, en-route to Kirigakure that a sudden snow storm erupted, blanketing the skies in a thick sheet of white. The rocky ground underfoot froze over and became more and more slippery with every step, the sales carts wheels struggled for grip as it hurtled down the steep winding paths presented to them. Inevitably the family lost control and the off the rails cart rushed toward a corner too sharp to turn round at such speed, Uther, desperate to preserve his families lives climbed from the front window of the cart and mustered every ounce of strength he had. He dropped to the ground before the cart and his body became hard as rock, his feet merged to ground and before he could blink, the cart smashed into his solid earthen body. An almighty crack was further emphasized by the howling echo that was sent round the mountain range at the moment of the collision. The masses of white that fell through the air unable to dissipate the sound even slightly as it sent rocks tumbling to the earth miles for miles around, usually so serene and calming, on this day the snow did not present the family with vast amounts of purity and love, today every tiny snowflake that fell represented a new danger, a contributor to disaster. There was no blood staining the snow after the impact, but the shattered rock that covered the snow was all that remained of the man, with the shattered rock lay splinters of broken wood dotted carelessly throughout the area, a glowing red blanket waved like a flag from the edge of the cliff as it became pinned to the ground by part of the rock that once formed the body of a loving father was the only colour present in the once picturesque view. Four-hundred feet below lay the rest of the cart most of which had been picked up by the fast-flowing river mere yards from the clear impact point. The once profitable merchandise lay as broken as the wagon, a patch of red stained the snow and the broken body of a woman made for a devastating centre point, the body lay face down in the now blood-soaked snow, multiple shards of wood protruded from her torso and legs. Another two hundred feet down the river was the girl, abandoned by the tide on a river bank deep within a heavy mountain forest, her clothes were drenched and her body visibly shaking as the cold air froze her skin solid. Although breathing, the girls eyes were firmly shut the white that filled her gaze mere seconds ago now replaced by the deep black far more fitting of the past moments.
The Second Beginning
Her vision was not the first of her senses to return, instead, she smelt a soothing aroma in the air around her, the warm scent bringing feeling back to her hands, she began to slowly move her fingers, a tingling sensation raced down her arms as her blood flow steadied itself in her body, racing from the tips of her fingers and warming her flesh as it made its way to her heart, only to be pumped back down into her legs; bringing with it the warmth that the scent had originally instilled in her. Her lips were dry and cracked, but as her tongue caressed the insides of her mouth the wet saliva spread itself around, giving life to the corpse like dryness of her lips. It was not until this point, that her eyes opened. A strong orange light shot itself through her vision in a haze of colour, she squinted and brought a hand to her forehead as she struggled to adjust to the multitude of colours which now became evident in the room around her, because she was, she was inside. She began to make out many strange, multi-coloured ornaments dotted oddly on shelves which covered the walls from head to toe. The busy room was such a mismatch of things it seemed as if it had been put together by a child, the colours clashed, the eras varied wildly and there was no clear order to anything.
“Ah! You're awake!”
An old voice screeched. Turning to her right Morgana's body jolts backwards as the long pointed nose of an elderly lady sits inches from her own, the womans overly-large eyes staring purposefully into hers Morgana lets out a small help before pausing to catch her breath.
”Who're you?”
The old woman explains what had happened, that she found Morgana unconscious on her daily wander down to the river searching for food and stocking up on water for the day ahead. She had loaded Morgana into her wheelbarrow and brought her back to her cottage in the woods. The old woman spoke well, Morgana began to settle, then she thought of her parents and asked the woman if they were with her. The revelation that followed sent streams of tears down the girls face, the tears so reminiscent of the river that had stolen her from her mothers side it only made Morgana cry more. Although saved, Morgana felt dead all the same, the woman left the room and the girl continued to sob until there were no tears left.
First Sight
For many days Morgana remained in that room, she spent her time wondering what became of her parents, whether she'd ever see them again, and crying. There was a lot of crying. The days grew longer as the room became more and more familiar, she memorised that there was a small scratch in the side of the faded yellow vase which stood on one of the seventeen shelves lining the wall to her right. To her left their was a single arm chair, the chair was covered in fabrics and dust, giving the impression that it hadn't been used in a long time. A small table in between the bed and chair held a three day old glass of water that Morgana hadn't touched in wonder of whether the old woman had added a special ingredient. It was a loud bang from the main section of the house which eventually pulled Morgana from the bed, she rose quickly from the bed and her legs gave way beneath her, the muscles had considerably weakened from her days spent laying beneath the covers. After numerous failed attempts Morgana's legs become able to bear her weight, she shuffles toward the door and pushes through into the unknown. A room, larger than she had expected lay on the other side, the room was empty apart from a single wooden rocking chair in the corner by a large open window, a dark green rug was positioned just in front of the chair and the air was heavy with the smell of mothballs. The source of the noise still unclear the girl takes a few more steps into the centre of the eerily empty room. The floor creaking beneath her feet forced unease into the girls heart, that's when she heard it again, the noise from before was closer this time, before she knew it her face was against the window and beyond it she saw a man, the corpse of a wolf lay limp over his shoulders. He turned to her, smiled and was gone. Mere moments later the door to the house swung open behind her, from the shadows the old woman entered, a smile stretched from cheek to cheek, her few remaining teeth clearly visible as they grow at awkward angles from her wrinkled gums.
“Oh, you're up? Just in time to help me put some dinner on. Would you?”
She reaches toward Morgana, extending a basket of ingredients into the girls clutches and gesturing toward the door from which she had just entered. Outside a cooking pot was boiling atop a wood fire, the smell of the flames and burning wood sent an intense hunger through the girl every nerve, the severe want inside the girl like nothing she had ever felt before. The picture of the wolf draped over the mans shoulders came flooding back into her mind, she didn't know why, but the wolf spoke to her, her eyes were drawn to the dark fur and the faint red that remained in its otherwise lifeless eyes.
Over dinner that day, the old lady explained to Morgana more about her daily ventures, explaining that the man she had seen was a hunter from a nearby village, the woman met him weekly to stock up on meat and other essentials. Whilst in the forests she would pick berries from the bushes by the river, fill her bottles with the fresh water in the mountain springs and would pick medicinal herbs because, as she put it “you never know when you might need them”.
The Wolf
The old woman spent the following weeks teaching Morgana what she knew of the world, and showing her which plants were okay to pick and which weren't. She took Morgana with her on her ventures from time to time to teach her the route and eventually Morgana began making the trips herself. The girl would wrap up in a red cloak, the hood would flow gently down her back allowing her long hair to hang freely, blowing in the cool mountainous breeze as she rushed through the ever present trees of the forest. The path grew familiar, but on one particular trip the familiarity vanished. She followed the route she always had, yet it somehow felt different. The trees rustled to her sides, but there was no breeze. The twig laden path cracked under foot, but the girl remained still. She caught a glimmer of light from the corner of her eye and turned, nothing. Then the same from the opposite side, she spins, nothing. A shudder of fear rips down her spine and the danger becomes apparent, the cool shiver on her neck alerts her and somehow, she knows. The next time she turns is far slower, the beast bears its teeth and in a flash its claws rip through her flesh. The girls body is forced to the ground in a heap and her vision turns red, she covers up expecting a second blow, but it never comes. A cold breath on her cheek and a growl are all she receives before she hears the wolf disappear into the trees.
When the girl builds up the strength to uncurl her body, she realises something. The growl in her ear and the soft breath of the beast were different to the original. They didn't possess the nerve-shattering pulses of fear that she had felt when the beast stalked her from the trees. For some reason, the wolf had a change of heart, their was no malice in the growl, and Morgana sensed it.
She spent her trip home wondering, what had triggered the change, and what was the overriding emotion that filled the wolfs almost timid growl. She thought and thought, but the answer didn't come.
Instinct
Emerging from the woods, Morgana's nose was met by the same smell that she had become so rabid for the day she woke. Basket in hand she approached, the pot was already boiling by the time she reached it and the water had been turned a less than appetizing shade of brown, in the water floated carrots, potatoes and an assortment of other vegetables. The old woman stood to the side with a long wooden spoon, she stirred the recipe calmly over what she assumed to be five minute periods, adding seasoning and fresh herbs as time passed. Whilst she waited Morgana thought back to her encounter with the wolf, still she couldn't decipher the underlying tones of the wolfs growl, her deep thought was soon interrupted as the old woman’s voice screeched.
“Oh Lassie! What happened to you?!”
She approached and patted the eye wound with a damp cloth before Morgana softly pushed her hand away and explained that she was fine. She did not mention the wolf but assumed the old lady would have guessed due to the nature of the cuts, she insisted that the woman need not worry and pressed that the woman continue with the cooking of the food. The woman did so, and Morgana also rose from her seat, setting off toward the small well of water in order to wash her face, passing the cooking pot on the way through Morgana's eye caught a new ingredient. It was meat, that she was sure of. And that's when it hit her. The wolfs face from earlier filled the girls weary gaze as she collapsed to her knees, the puzzling growl echoed chaotically through her mind. Fear. The wolf was scared, the growl was not a growl, but a whimper. Under the stress of the attack she had told herself the wolf had growled, another realisation, the wolf had apologised. The breath, the apology, for some reason, Morgana was drawn to the creature, she felt a strong bond grow within her. At that point, the plate crashed down in front of her. The girls mind exploded, her left hand launched upwards, driving itself into the old woman’s nose and sending her back to the ground. Morgana stood over the woman, her shadow cast the shadow of a wolf beside her. Grabbing the knife from the board beside the pot Morgana scraped the blade across the woman’s eye three times, the wound mimicking that of the scratch inflicted upon her. The blade then nestles into the woman’s heart and the girl disappears into the undergrowth.
Revelations
The excessive loneliness of the forests changed the girl. The shadows defiled her once innocent heart, tainting it with darkness. She began to relish the night and felt a strange sense of comfort when beneath the creaking branches of the deadwood trees. She met few people, but the ones she did meet steered clear of her, as if they could sense the change I her heart, her now fragile mind assumed this was a result of her newly acquired scars and jumping to these conclusions bred hate, along with which came rejection and sadness.
Her wandering eventually brought her to a place which triggered a memory, she stood in a clearing, a wild river rushed through the centre and numerous grey rocks dotted throughout the area lay still in the dirt. Unknowing of why, Morgana's head began to pound, an intense dizziness filled her mind and she collapsed to a knee to regain focus, when the blur cleared from her vision, all was clear. The large patch of earth that lay without grass, the numerous rocks merely shattered pieces of what used to be a single larger rock, and the shattered pieces of wood that had been all but buried by the wind swept dirt of the years. This was where she lost her parents.
Pictures flashed rough her mind, she saw her mother scream as her father dropped from the cart, she watched how her fathers earthen body shattered under the force of the cart and then she listened as the cart tumbled to the ground. Then it was silent, the memories ended, and she had nothing. Nothing, until a rustling was heard from the woods behind her, after the rustle, a whimper. A small wolf showed itself, in its mouth it held a thin object which glimmered slightly under what light could squeeze through the thick tree branches. She beckoned to the creature, and it approached. Before her still kneeling body it placed a photograph, gazing at the picture, her parents smiled back, and she felt whole again. As if it sensed the smile, or read her face, the wolf whimpered again and turned away. After walking a few paces the wolf turned and it's eyes spoke to her, it wanted her to follow, and for some reason, under the gaze of this creature, she felt safe. She knew she had to go.
The wolf led her toward the rock face and through a small crack in the rock, through the cracks was an opening, a cave of sorts, but one which was so marvellously rounded it had to be man made. In the centre of the cave stood two graves, the graves read. "Here lie Uther and Morgose, taken from us before their time, they will be missed." The graves of her parents sapped her strength and for hours she lay unmoving, tears streaming from her eyes and the wolf curled up beside her.
The Hood
After seeing the graves of her parents, Morgana left the woods. The tears she had shed throughout the night bled her free of some of the darkness within her, she saw in her parents graves the caring nature that can exist within humans. She gave her all in order to keep the hatred supressed and moved forward, looking to start her life inside a village once more. The nature of her new wolf companion gave her a new sense of security whereever she went, at nights she would sit and listen and her friend would howl at the moon; and without fail, the wolves of the woods would respond. The echoes of the wolf packs through the air gave the girl pictures of the creatures in her head, sleeping with their heads buried within anothers fur, keeping the pups warm and hunting as a unit. In a strange way, she began to long for that friendship, but above that, she learnt the importance of others, she felt comfortable alone, but understood the importance of teamwork.
When the pair arrived at a small village just outside Kirigakure (she could tell due to the thin layer of mist in the air), the villagers did not take kindly to her. She was the new girl, and the wolf didn't help her cause. She overheard them talking 'The girl with the scar' they called her... How insulting, Morgana's rage built once more and the same tainted opinion of humans manifested itself in her mind once more. The girl fought, with all her might to hold back the feelings, but her companion picked up on them, somehow the wolf could sense her distress, and it could sense the source. Over the next few days, it was not the girl who went through a personality change, but the wolf. It began to grow far more aggressive, it grew protective of the girl and started growling at strangers in the street, it's eyes turned from warm and loving to the cold stare of the beast she had originally met in the woods all that time ago. The girls presence became unwanted by the villagers, they shunned her more than they originally had and instead of ignoring her presence, they disputed it.
The torches flared and the light burned through her window. The angry taunts of those below scratched through the peaceful night sky and created a frenzy of cusses as they grew louder. The girl woke, made her way to the window, and froze. A mob had assembled outside her door, pitchforks and daggers held high they screamed for her to leave, then she heard it. The cry of a dog cannoned through her ear drums, the defenseless wolf's cry removed any element of beast, the limp creature that lay atop the crowd was merely a puppy, a frightened pet that was caught caring. The tears returned, but these tears were not the same. Her parents had caused her to cry sadness, but this sight, the wolfs head now ripped from it's corpse and hanged mercilessly from the top of a flagpole. The villagers sang and chanted, and sang and chanted and sang and charted... And silence.
The girl left the village, her hood draped without care over her head, reaching down and covering her scarred eye. In her hand lay her friends head. Her expressionless face remained unchanged as she trudged thoughtlessly along the path.
Shadows
The crisp scent of the burning village lay ever present in the girls mind as she wandered through the shadows. The tortured faces of the villages which still had faces screamed in fear as their pictures raced across her vision. With every face, her smile grew. With every face, the girl saw only blood, and hunger. She flared her teeth at the mere thought of seeing the red substance once more. She had become the monster she had seen in the forest the first time she encountered a beast, and she loved it.
From that point, only one place spoke to her. A sole village lay buried within the mist called to her in the night. The Bloody Mist.
Gaining entry to the village of the mist, Morgana became an asset, her love for inflicting pain and her understanding of teamwork went hand in hand in the ninja world. She had a blade made in honour of her friend. The blade was formed from the ashes of the dead pup and never left the girls side, she would even take the wolfs form on outings, forcing herself never to forget her one true friend. It was the bloodlust and hatred she showed that got her noticed by Kirigakures Nekura members, they taught of the wonders of their clan, the ability to inflict pain almost at will and she relished it. The initiation was a success and Morgana now carries the mark of the Nerkura on her skin.
To be continued...
On June 11th 1994 travelling merchant couple Morgose and Uther were blessed with the one true gift of god when their daughter was born in perfect health. The baby entered the world in the back of a sales wagon as it sat idly within the cool breeze created by the towering trees that built up the forested area around it. The couple did well, they looked after the baby as any parent was expected to despite the constant travelling that their jobs forced upon them, some days were spent curled up under the roof of an inn, when others would be spent entirely on the road, rolling restlessly across the harsh terrains provided by the ninja world. From the mist covered oceans of Kirigakure to the intense heats of Sunagakure's vast deserts, the family could not be stopped, they went about their business as if it were nothing. The same routine continued on through the early years of Morgana's life, when she reached eight years old her parents began to teach her basic ninja skills, they were not highly skilled ninja themselves, but they had knowledge to spare and would give their everything to their daughter in order for her to survive the world. Eventually, the two ran dry of knowledge and began to travel less and less, allowing Morgana to study in many different ninja academy's around the world, moving schools as they travelled was not the greatest provider of education, but Morgana was smart, she learnt quickly, and it gave her the opportunity to train (although for short periods) under many of the best sensei from around the world Azazel of Iwagakure, Lili-Chwan of Kirigakure, Former Hokage of Konoha McRazor, even Vision, a member of the rogue group Akatsuki agreed to teach the child when the family stumbled across him on their travels, these to name but a few.
The End of the Beginning
It was mere days since her thirteenth birthday when Morgana and her family set of from their temporary stall in Kumogakure, they headed down the rocky mountain paths, en-route to Kirigakure that a sudden snow storm erupted, blanketing the skies in a thick sheet of white. The rocky ground underfoot froze over and became more and more slippery with every step, the sales carts wheels struggled for grip as it hurtled down the steep winding paths presented to them. Inevitably the family lost control and the off the rails cart rushed toward a corner too sharp to turn round at such speed, Uther, desperate to preserve his families lives climbed from the front window of the cart and mustered every ounce of strength he had. He dropped to the ground before the cart and his body became hard as rock, his feet merged to ground and before he could blink, the cart smashed into his solid earthen body. An almighty crack was further emphasized by the howling echo that was sent round the mountain range at the moment of the collision. The masses of white that fell through the air unable to dissipate the sound even slightly as it sent rocks tumbling to the earth miles for miles around, usually so serene and calming, on this day the snow did not present the family with vast amounts of purity and love, today every tiny snowflake that fell represented a new danger, a contributor to disaster. There was no blood staining the snow after the impact, but the shattered rock that covered the snow was all that remained of the man, with the shattered rock lay splinters of broken wood dotted carelessly throughout the area, a glowing red blanket waved like a flag from the edge of the cliff as it became pinned to the ground by part of the rock that once formed the body of a loving father was the only colour present in the once picturesque view. Four-hundred feet below lay the rest of the cart most of which had been picked up by the fast-flowing river mere yards from the clear impact point. The once profitable merchandise lay as broken as the wagon, a patch of red stained the snow and the broken body of a woman made for a devastating centre point, the body lay face down in the now blood-soaked snow, multiple shards of wood protruded from her torso and legs. Another two hundred feet down the river was the girl, abandoned by the tide on a river bank deep within a heavy mountain forest, her clothes were drenched and her body visibly shaking as the cold air froze her skin solid. Although breathing, the girls eyes were firmly shut the white that filled her gaze mere seconds ago now replaced by the deep black far more fitting of the past moments.
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The Second Beginning
Her vision was not the first of her senses to return, instead, she smelt a soothing aroma in the air around her, the warm scent bringing feeling back to her hands, she began to slowly move her fingers, a tingling sensation raced down her arms as her blood flow steadied itself in her body, racing from the tips of her fingers and warming her flesh as it made its way to her heart, only to be pumped back down into her legs; bringing with it the warmth that the scent had originally instilled in her. Her lips were dry and cracked, but as her tongue caressed the insides of her mouth the wet saliva spread itself around, giving life to the corpse like dryness of her lips. It was not until this point, that her eyes opened. A strong orange light shot itself through her vision in a haze of colour, she squinted and brought a hand to her forehead as she struggled to adjust to the multitude of colours which now became evident in the room around her, because she was, she was inside. She began to make out many strange, multi-coloured ornaments dotted oddly on shelves which covered the walls from head to toe. The busy room was such a mismatch of things it seemed as if it had been put together by a child, the colours clashed, the eras varied wildly and there was no clear order to anything.
“Ah! You're awake!”
An old voice screeched. Turning to her right Morgana's body jolts backwards as the long pointed nose of an elderly lady sits inches from her own, the womans overly-large eyes staring purposefully into hers Morgana lets out a small help before pausing to catch her breath.
”Who're you?”
The old woman explains what had happened, that she found Morgana unconscious on her daily wander down to the river searching for food and stocking up on water for the day ahead. She had loaded Morgana into her wheelbarrow and brought her back to her cottage in the woods. The old woman spoke well, Morgana began to settle, then she thought of her parents and asked the woman if they were with her. The revelation that followed sent streams of tears down the girls face, the tears so reminiscent of the river that had stolen her from her mothers side it only made Morgana cry more. Although saved, Morgana felt dead all the same, the woman left the room and the girl continued to sob until there were no tears left.
First Sight
For many days Morgana remained in that room, she spent her time wondering what became of her parents, whether she'd ever see them again, and crying. There was a lot of crying. The days grew longer as the room became more and more familiar, she memorised that there was a small scratch in the side of the faded yellow vase which stood on one of the seventeen shelves lining the wall to her right. To her left their was a single arm chair, the chair was covered in fabrics and dust, giving the impression that it hadn't been used in a long time. A small table in between the bed and chair held a three day old glass of water that Morgana hadn't touched in wonder of whether the old woman had added a special ingredient. It was a loud bang from the main section of the house which eventually pulled Morgana from the bed, she rose quickly from the bed and her legs gave way beneath her, the muscles had considerably weakened from her days spent laying beneath the covers. After numerous failed attempts Morgana's legs become able to bear her weight, she shuffles toward the door and pushes through into the unknown. A room, larger than she had expected lay on the other side, the room was empty apart from a single wooden rocking chair in the corner by a large open window, a dark green rug was positioned just in front of the chair and the air was heavy with the smell of mothballs. The source of the noise still unclear the girl takes a few more steps into the centre of the eerily empty room. The floor creaking beneath her feet forced unease into the girls heart, that's when she heard it again, the noise from before was closer this time, before she knew it her face was against the window and beyond it she saw a man, the corpse of a wolf lay limp over his shoulders. He turned to her, smiled and was gone. Mere moments later the door to the house swung open behind her, from the shadows the old woman entered, a smile stretched from cheek to cheek, her few remaining teeth clearly visible as they grow at awkward angles from her wrinkled gums.
“Oh, you're up? Just in time to help me put some dinner on. Would you?”
She reaches toward Morgana, extending a basket of ingredients into the girls clutches and gesturing toward the door from which she had just entered. Outside a cooking pot was boiling atop a wood fire, the smell of the flames and burning wood sent an intense hunger through the girl every nerve, the severe want inside the girl like nothing she had ever felt before. The picture of the wolf draped over the mans shoulders came flooding back into her mind, she didn't know why, but the wolf spoke to her, her eyes were drawn to the dark fur and the faint red that remained in its otherwise lifeless eyes.
Over dinner that day, the old lady explained to Morgana more about her daily ventures, explaining that the man she had seen was a hunter from a nearby village, the woman met him weekly to stock up on meat and other essentials. Whilst in the forests she would pick berries from the bushes by the river, fill her bottles with the fresh water in the mountain springs and would pick medicinal herbs because, as she put it “you never know when you might need them”.
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The Wolf
The old woman spent the following weeks teaching Morgana what she knew of the world, and showing her which plants were okay to pick and which weren't. She took Morgana with her on her ventures from time to time to teach her the route and eventually Morgana began making the trips herself. The girl would wrap up in a red cloak, the hood would flow gently down her back allowing her long hair to hang freely, blowing in the cool mountainous breeze as she rushed through the ever present trees of the forest. The path grew familiar, but on one particular trip the familiarity vanished. She followed the route she always had, yet it somehow felt different. The trees rustled to her sides, but there was no breeze. The twig laden path cracked under foot, but the girl remained still. She caught a glimmer of light from the corner of her eye and turned, nothing. Then the same from the opposite side, she spins, nothing. A shudder of fear rips down her spine and the danger becomes apparent, the cool shiver on her neck alerts her and somehow, she knows. The next time she turns is far slower, the beast bears its teeth and in a flash its claws rip through her flesh. The girls body is forced to the ground in a heap and her vision turns red, she covers up expecting a second blow, but it never comes. A cold breath on her cheek and a growl are all she receives before she hears the wolf disappear into the trees.
When the girl builds up the strength to uncurl her body, she realises something. The growl in her ear and the soft breath of the beast were different to the original. They didn't possess the nerve-shattering pulses of fear that she had felt when the beast stalked her from the trees. For some reason, the wolf had a change of heart, their was no malice in the growl, and Morgana sensed it.
She spent her trip home wondering, what had triggered the change, and what was the overriding emotion that filled the wolfs almost timid growl. She thought and thought, but the answer didn't come.
Instinct
Emerging from the woods, Morgana's nose was met by the same smell that she had become so rabid for the day she woke. Basket in hand she approached, the pot was already boiling by the time she reached it and the water had been turned a less than appetizing shade of brown, in the water floated carrots, potatoes and an assortment of other vegetables. The old woman stood to the side with a long wooden spoon, she stirred the recipe calmly over what she assumed to be five minute periods, adding seasoning and fresh herbs as time passed. Whilst she waited Morgana thought back to her encounter with the wolf, still she couldn't decipher the underlying tones of the wolfs growl, her deep thought was soon interrupted as the old woman’s voice screeched.
“Oh Lassie! What happened to you?!”
She approached and patted the eye wound with a damp cloth before Morgana softly pushed her hand away and explained that she was fine. She did not mention the wolf but assumed the old lady would have guessed due to the nature of the cuts, she insisted that the woman need not worry and pressed that the woman continue with the cooking of the food. The woman did so, and Morgana also rose from her seat, setting off toward the small well of water in order to wash her face, passing the cooking pot on the way through Morgana's eye caught a new ingredient. It was meat, that she was sure of. And that's when it hit her. The wolfs face from earlier filled the girls weary gaze as she collapsed to her knees, the puzzling growl echoed chaotically through her mind. Fear. The wolf was scared, the growl was not a growl, but a whimper. Under the stress of the attack she had told herself the wolf had growled, another realisation, the wolf had apologised. The breath, the apology, for some reason, Morgana was drawn to the creature, she felt a strong bond grow within her. At that point, the plate crashed down in front of her. The girls mind exploded, her left hand launched upwards, driving itself into the old woman’s nose and sending her back to the ground. Morgana stood over the woman, her shadow cast the shadow of a wolf beside her. Grabbing the knife from the board beside the pot Morgana scraped the blade across the woman’s eye three times, the wound mimicking that of the scratch inflicted upon her. The blade then nestles into the woman’s heart and the girl disappears into the undergrowth.
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Revelations
The excessive loneliness of the forests changed the girl. The shadows defiled her once innocent heart, tainting it with darkness. She began to relish the night and felt a strange sense of comfort when beneath the creaking branches of the deadwood trees. She met few people, but the ones she did meet steered clear of her, as if they could sense the change I her heart, her now fragile mind assumed this was a result of her newly acquired scars and jumping to these conclusions bred hate, along with which came rejection and sadness.
Her wandering eventually brought her to a place which triggered a memory, she stood in a clearing, a wild river rushed through the centre and numerous grey rocks dotted throughout the area lay still in the dirt. Unknowing of why, Morgana's head began to pound, an intense dizziness filled her mind and she collapsed to a knee to regain focus, when the blur cleared from her vision, all was clear. The large patch of earth that lay without grass, the numerous rocks merely shattered pieces of what used to be a single larger rock, and the shattered pieces of wood that had been all but buried by the wind swept dirt of the years. This was where she lost her parents.
Pictures flashed rough her mind, she saw her mother scream as her father dropped from the cart, she watched how her fathers earthen body shattered under the force of the cart and then she listened as the cart tumbled to the ground. Then it was silent, the memories ended, and she had nothing. Nothing, until a rustling was heard from the woods behind her, after the rustle, a whimper. A small wolf showed itself, in its mouth it held a thin object which glimmered slightly under what light could squeeze through the thick tree branches. She beckoned to the creature, and it approached. Before her still kneeling body it placed a photograph, gazing at the picture, her parents smiled back, and she felt whole again. As if it sensed the smile, or read her face, the wolf whimpered again and turned away. After walking a few paces the wolf turned and it's eyes spoke to her, it wanted her to follow, and for some reason, under the gaze of this creature, she felt safe. She knew she had to go.
The wolf led her toward the rock face and through a small crack in the rock, through the cracks was an opening, a cave of sorts, but one which was so marvellously rounded it had to be man made. In the centre of the cave stood two graves, the graves read. "Here lie Uther and Morgose, taken from us before their time, they will be missed." The graves of her parents sapped her strength and for hours she lay unmoving, tears streaming from her eyes and the wolf curled up beside her.
The Hood
After seeing the graves of her parents, Morgana left the woods. The tears she had shed throughout the night bled her free of some of the darkness within her, she saw in her parents graves the caring nature that can exist within humans. She gave her all in order to keep the hatred supressed and moved forward, looking to start her life inside a village once more. The nature of her new wolf companion gave her a new sense of security whereever she went, at nights she would sit and listen and her friend would howl at the moon; and without fail, the wolves of the woods would respond. The echoes of the wolf packs through the air gave the girl pictures of the creatures in her head, sleeping with their heads buried within anothers fur, keeping the pups warm and hunting as a unit. In a strange way, she began to long for that friendship, but above that, she learnt the importance of others, she felt comfortable alone, but understood the importance of teamwork.
When the pair arrived at a small village just outside Kirigakure (she could tell due to the thin layer of mist in the air), the villagers did not take kindly to her. She was the new girl, and the wolf didn't help her cause. She overheard them talking 'The girl with the scar' they called her... How insulting, Morgana's rage built once more and the same tainted opinion of humans manifested itself in her mind once more. The girl fought, with all her might to hold back the feelings, but her companion picked up on them, somehow the wolf could sense her distress, and it could sense the source. Over the next few days, it was not the girl who went through a personality change, but the wolf. It began to grow far more aggressive, it grew protective of the girl and started growling at strangers in the street, it's eyes turned from warm and loving to the cold stare of the beast she had originally met in the woods all that time ago. The girls presence became unwanted by the villagers, they shunned her more than they originally had and instead of ignoring her presence, they disputed it.
The torches flared and the light burned through her window. The angry taunts of those below scratched through the peaceful night sky and created a frenzy of cusses as they grew louder. The girl woke, made her way to the window, and froze. A mob had assembled outside her door, pitchforks and daggers held high they screamed for her to leave, then she heard it. The cry of a dog cannoned through her ear drums, the defenseless wolf's cry removed any element of beast, the limp creature that lay atop the crowd was merely a puppy, a frightened pet that was caught caring. The tears returned, but these tears were not the same. Her parents had caused her to cry sadness, but this sight, the wolfs head now ripped from it's corpse and hanged mercilessly from the top of a flagpole. The villagers sang and chanted, and sang and chanted and sang and charted... And silence.
The girl left the village, her hood draped without care over her head, reaching down and covering her scarred eye. In her hand lay her friends head. Her expressionless face remained unchanged as she trudged thoughtlessly along the path.
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Shadows
The crisp scent of the burning village lay ever present in the girls mind as she wandered through the shadows. The tortured faces of the villages which still had faces screamed in fear as their pictures raced across her vision. With every face, her smile grew. With every face, the girl saw only blood, and hunger. She flared her teeth at the mere thought of seeing the red substance once more. She had become the monster she had seen in the forest the first time she encountered a beast, and she loved it.
From that point, only one place spoke to her. A sole village lay buried within the mist called to her in the night. The Bloody Mist.
Gaining entry to the village of the mist, Morgana became an asset, her love for inflicting pain and her understanding of teamwork went hand in hand in the ninja world. She had a blade made in honour of her friend. The blade was formed from the ashes of the dead pup and never left the girls side, she would even take the wolfs form on outings, forcing herself never to forget her one true friend. It was the bloodlust and hatred she showed that got her noticed by Kirigakures Nekura members, they taught of the wonders of their clan, the ability to inflict pain almost at will and she relished it. The initiation was a success and Morgana now carries the mark of the Nerkura on her skin.
To be continued...
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Other
She carries her katana, Mordu: The Wolf's Shadow with her to every battle.
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Battles
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She carries her katana, Mordu: The Wolf's Shadow with her to every battle.
Picture
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Theme Song and Background Music:
Battles
Won: 0
Lost: 0
Dropping
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