When Morgans lips were zipped, her eyes flew to the eyes of saucers and she struggled to pull them apart. Though, when the boy was turned into a pig... that sent her into a stiff mode indeed. All her previous 'valor' gone and long forgotten, her shoulders began to shake and tears formed into her eyes. Her forced silence allowed her to hear the rest of the words of the hag. Rather than glare, the shocked little girl quivered. Spirits... Spirits? Why... 

Tears welled behind her eyes in fear, but when the witch offered the contract, she practically leapt up first; grabbing the itching quill in midair and writing her full name on the dotted line. The paper practically tore beneath the ferocity of her writing.. and she considered how she spelled it in a half clumsy, half graceful motion. M-O-R-G-A-N. Most people bitched about their names, but Morgan had always liked hers. Morganna~ is how her mother liked to address her. Her friends would sometimes tease her, calling her the Morgue; seeing she was pale as a cadaver... and though these thoughts ran through her mind, she did not consider how precious a name truly was. Nor would she again, not for a long time.