[i]Morgan[/i] - [u]Sabertooth's B-Rank Magi[/u]

Her magic was always peculiar, at least to the outside world; but Morgan didn't seem to mind it. Classified by Sabertooth's Guild Master as a B-Rank Magi, she honestly didn't mind going on B-Rank missions. They were often fun, sometimes comical, other times they held just a hint of danger; so they were often quite good sport. Whether it was helping an escort of merchants through bandit territory, or something as humorous as retrieving a rather large cat out of a tree, it was a rather pleasant break from the [i]usual[/i] sort she had been assigned elsewhere. 

A flowing white garb with a hood drawn to a point covered her figure tightly in the pieces that were tailored for her. Knee-high boots marked her pace as she marched with a bag lightly tossed over her shoulder. 

It was the result of another mission finely finished and in good time, but she hadn't been back to the guild for a solid week. Having been occupied by more [i]urgent[/i] matters, Morgan bore a light, pleasant smile on her lips as her obsidian eyes affixed upon what now towered in front of her. A rather grand structure, a structure that she officially called her home at least for part of the time she still had on this earth. 

It was the Guild Hall of Sabertooth, a Guild of Mages that she had only joined a few weeks ago. 

As the most recent newcomer, they had tested her strength and ability. Eventually meting out that she qualified as a B-Rank Magi. It was rather entertaining, the sparring match she held with the Guild Master; and likely that was the reason why he still stared at her so distrustfully. There was something deeper about her, something monstrous that lay in Sabertooth's midst, but he couldn't identify it. 

Personally, she thanked the stars that he hadn't been able to. Being unrecognized was a wonderful strength to possess, it allowed her to be free of the constraints that would normally bind her.

Pushing open the dual-doors that separated Sabertooth from the outside world, the first thing she saw was two of the younger members, with one incessantly teasing the other. It had taken Morgan several days, but eventually she had mastered knowing most of the names of her comrades.

The names of these two were...Tenshi and Moka, she believed. Rolling her eyes at their mischievous behavior, the twenty-seven year old recalled all too well that she was robbed of such things as a child. Letting youth be youth, per-se. Instead, she simply dropped the Guild's portion of the Payment for her last mission off at the head desk before finding a table for herself and sitting while removing her hood. 

The squeals of indignation and the devilish giggles were something she paid little heed to; after all, this continuous teasing assault had been going on for nearly the entirety that she had been a part of Sabertooth. A total amount of three weeks. 

Instead, she simply reached inside her coat and extracted a small book. A small, weathered, leather-bound looking tome that was her private possession. Within it were contained small sketches of places she had been, people she had met, and enemies that she had crossed. Alongside other written parts of text that were carefully placed in an undecipherable code that only she knew.

But today was a day to draw. 

And draw she did. 

She began etching the face of an elderly man, one she had drawn before. Lines of wisdom had been carved into his face from years of survival, his eyes betrayed a peculiar wisdom that only she knew. It were an almost faint glimmer, but beneath his scraggly and sloppy white beard lay a toothy grin.

Her former Master, and former Friend. 

Soon it would be time to go hunting again. After the day of the Games, in order to insure her talents were as sharp as ever.