In his/her deepest self, anyway.Outwardly would be a different matter, he/she knew. Which brought uncomfortable issues to mind. Like the body he/she now wore. Morgana, oh, how the similarities of name lulled him/her into accepting the new one without rancor or argument, drew on the steel within and forced him/herself to begin a slow self examination.Hands, a safe, non-sexual place to begin. Or so he/she had thought. Morgana?s hands were small, pale, and delicate in appearance. An almost perfectly oval palm, long, slender fingers and thumb tipped with well cared for nails and the size he/she recalled as small when held in Sylvanus? obviously male one. His/her hands were obviously feminine, and beautiful to look at. Flexing fingers made those alien members move with an agility he/she vaguely recalled from childhood, and they proved to be far stronger than outward appearance hinted at when distraught, he/she began to pull at one of the quilts only to have it shred under the. The pain turned out to be a foot on which she was lying, and finally bringing her eyesight into focus Erin wished she could have just slept a little longer. The scene that slowly swam into view was from another world. The mossy cave was still there, as were the horses and their knights, although none of them were currently mounted. Two or three of them appeared to have been injured, and the man in the blue cloak was moving among the wounded offering a gentle touch or word. Focusing more closely Erin discovered that the foot belonged to Richard, who in turn was lying in Megan's arms. Tears slowly tracked down Megan's face, and she didn't seem to be able to do anything but rock Richard gently in her arms and croon to him. Richard was awake, or at least his eyes were partly open, and pain clearly etched his delicate features. A gentle touch on her arm startled Erin out of her reverie, and she turned to follow the hand to its owner."My lady" Emory said in gentle tones, "we really must be.
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