"I do not see why this is necessary."
"Nor do I." The younger woman folded her arms, shifting uneasily as she realized that she was mirroring the other mage.
"And yet the Warden thinks it best."
"That you learn from an apostate." Morrigan's smirk turned wicked. "Oh how the mighty have fallen."
"I never said that I was mighty, girl. And I fell long ago."
"Is it the way of the old to speak only in riddles? 'Twill not work, you know."
"And one might say that the young are overly suspicious. But we are not here to trade barbs. Tell me of your... craft."
"I'd say you already know something of it." Morrigan nodded to the woman's arms, crossed now beneath her chest. "I have seen the way the men around here stare. But for one so ancient and withered..."
"There is no magic to it, I assure you. In civilized places women wear more than just a few strips of cloth."
Morrigan's sneer turned smug.
"But if there are any such tricks..." The older woman quirked a brow. "...I'd say you learn them before you gain many more years yourself."
She reddened at that, folding her arms again as she turned away. "The first shape is that of the spider. I'd say it will suit you rather well."
Wynne only smiled.