Swine and muscle twist and contort under a pelt of utter blackness, dark as the night sky above of which the stars littler with twinkling lights; illuminating the darkness in their best of ways. Marring this darkness, is tribal like markings of a amethyst that intertwines with her lengthy and lush pelt, from there they form a terrify mask upon her face - while tainting the rest of her body, making her look just utterly vicious while at the same time being quite the sight to be hold. Stature and strength are two well known traits beneath the pelt; her form was bulky but not over slow; a broad thick chest with an almost overly slender mid section allowed her to control both power and speed. Thick muscled legs were placed upon her form, allowing for both that natural speed and unearthly strength that resides within her form. A pair of-piercing amethyst eyes stare out from wolfen sockets with almost soulless, chilling stare - the world hold naught for her, but pleasure, pain and suffering all mixed into one. From her cheek bones three horns protrude to either side of her neck before curling downward towards her throat with deadly piercing points; the first closest to her neck being the thickest on the upper part of her cheek while the second seemed to be in the medium range, while the last on her lower cheek was the thinnest and shortest of them all. Forming a boney ridge just above her nose, it thickened as it vented to just between her soulless gaze - from there it extended outwards towards her neck one more, aligning with her spine as it ends in roughly a three horn, from the base the ridge continues giving her four more of these impressive horns, shortening and shrinking in size as the last settles just between her shoulder blades. Protruding from her back, just on either side of the last horn; are a pair of massive lathery wings, being properly taken care of they were full and proved to bare no signs of scars or holes within them.

(Markings, will hafta be created <3; only reason they're vague.)

She is a monster. A killer, who will put a price on your life and take it. She kills for the thrill. An assassin, that does what you want when you want, for the right price. And the amount of deaths is just a number, now—insignificant, cheap, a number that grows and changes daily. But, she feels as if to make up for the innocence people she kills, she must also kill criminals. She is a hunter of rapists, murderers, thieves; all of them must die, if she is to ever find redemption for the ones who don’t deserve it.

Morrigan is passionate in everything she does—in her life, and in her work. She is too passionate to feel numb after killing, she is too passionate to feel numb at all; the thrill of the hunt, and the kill are overwhelming; for her to act indifferent would make her dead inside. Callousness is not something she is capable of, even in the face of cruelty. She feels contrite, she feels happiness, she feels what everyone else feels. However, she is capable of pretenses. She is a liar, a master manipulator, capable of twisting people to get what she needs or wants. And although she cares, truly cares for others, she is ultimately a survivalist. She does what its necessary to keep herself alive and well.

She is unpredictable in her behavior, erratic in her moods. She can be friendly and open, and in an instant become defensive and snappish or exasperatingly mysterious. She is aloof, and attempts to distance herself from other’s—in a way, its self defense, to keep her identify a secret. She is a criminal, after all. Morrigan is also a wanderer—she is uncomfortable staying in any one place for longer than necessary, and as a result, she roams.

Morrigan's favored alias is that of "Vixen"; it is her business name, so to speak. It is her assassin name, so to speak. When it comes to first encounters, she is stand-offish and passive-aggressive, especially when it comes to employers. She ensures people know the severity of what they ask of her, for it is no small request.

She is afraid of people hating her—more afraid of it then she is of death; she doesn't want to be hated, or feared. She knows she’s a monster, and she’s accepted that; but she still goes to extremes to keep it hidden from the individual’s she meets daily. As a result, she keeps her brutality and savagery in check; her secret passions hidden. Morrigan becomes as charming as she wants to be, most frequently in the company of men, where she can prove to be most flirtatious, that is when the situation calls for it. Despite being defiled when she was very young, she feels more comfortable in the presence of men then she does women.

Morrigan also tends to be obsessive, possessive, and painfully manipulative to people she cares about. She pushes them away, at the same time attempting to keep them close to her—but in the end, the strange mixture of wanting them to stay and wanting them to leave pushes them farther away than anything else would. She has a horrible sentimentality towards these people though—the ones close to her heart, and she shows them far more than she ever means too. And she grows to trust them, blindly trusting them, hoping that they don’t hurt her. It is foolishness that compels her to do this, foolishness and a desperate need of affection, of someone who doesn’t hate her. But how can they not?

She’s a killer. A monster. An animal. A mercenary for hire.

Morrigan was born and raised, by her brutal and vicious father. Being the dreaded 'King of Nightmares' she was to follow in his foot steps, by his vigorous raising and training of the draconian halfing. From the moment she could walk, she was thrust into the world of hardships; shaping and forming a tool to be used by his paw alone, guided even; her mother had no say in things as she was taken away and trained in the arts of combat, her main use was that of an assassin, but a very unlikely assassin; she wasn't one that would hide in the shadow or poison you with some petty herbs. No, she would be the more up front and personal, showing that aggressiveness and the raw power that resided within her. Morri was quite adept as to what she was tasked to do; take out the leader or leaders of the pack by any means necessary. hunting accidents, a portal gone wrong, or a straight up challenge for the leaders' power in the pack; while it seemed she was challenging for the rank, she was really after your life.

Now, this went on for many a year, until she was a young but grown women; she challenge her father to a death match. Tired of doing his bidding, she took his life in a clash of titian's one could say, though she had received some gruesome wounds that day; he had lost his life. His guts spilled upon the ground - rather then take the pack as her own, she simply left, leaving the wretches to whatever fate awaited them. It took her a year nearly, to arrive here in the lands of Adymeria, now her journey continues.

To be continued. & Edited to be le pretty and expanded upon.