Meanwhile, an unsuspecting Morana was quietly strolling through the forest, a small bunch of wildflowers cradled in one arm, which she planned to lay against the marker. It was a sign of both respect and remorse on her part, sadness for the life that was lost and, in a strange way, of thanks.
While the girl had clearly hated the supposedly cursed female, Morana felt no bitterness. Her guilt had even disapperated now thanks to the support of her friends in Asgard. In an odd way, if it wasn't for the child being completely honest, facing the tribal girl with her disapproval instead of running away, Morana probably would have kept living the way she always had, never questioning the day to day routine. It wasn't fair the little girl had lost her life in the process, but Morana hoped she was happy wherever she was, and her family would remember the love they had for the child, not the unforuntate circumstances surrounding her death.
Sighing, Morana cast her gaze to the sunlight peeking through the trees, smiling slightly, before seeing the clearing where the little grave marker stood. It was nice at times to come here with Dorian, who was the only one besides herself who knew about it, but it was alos good to be by herself and reflect on those events, and how grateful she was to be in this place now. The war was in the back of her mind still, while she was finally able to enjoy living, and as she knelt down and began sorting the flowers so they could lay at the makeshift grave, she hoped teh peace would last forever.