making me feel glad that I'm not you

Morgan

Snakes are biting at my heels
The worries that refuse to let us go

"...A few, yes, but I'm not a storyteller." Morgan had never been particularly gifted with the way of words, at least not in her own opinion of herself, and struggled to get across stories from her past when she tried. "Regardless, while today was certainly stressful...I survived, so I will move on. Not even a scar from it." This was all said partially to convince herself, more than anyone else, but Morgan was careful not to appear too rattled. The leader of a region could not let herself be seen as weak.

She flinched away from the splashes of water, frowning at Saiden, but trying to listen to what he had to say. "A war? In Caido, or...?" Any of the other infinite places people claimed to come from nowadays, each with it's own history and complex problems and benefits.

Learning about Outlander worlds was always somewhat fascinating, but Morgan's eyes naturally wandered over to the flower by the shoreline, her gaze swiftly fixed on it. "Look at that. That flower. It has...gold? In it."

I've been kicking them away
Been hoping not to let them take control