CaL's PoV:
"Morgan," I asked, studying her face closely while she poked at her dinner absentmindedly. "What did your mother's coven members want?"
It took her a minute or two to respond before she answered "to know if I wanted to come live in Ireland and learn from them."
I could barely contain my excitement. "Well? What do you think?"
She looked up at me with a look of exhaustion or complete disinterest…I couldn't tell which. "I don't want to go."
"What?!" I responded awe-stricken. "It's the opportunity of a lifetime. My love, you'd be a complete fool to say no." I was on the ground in front of her, pleading into those bored, hazel eyes.
"It's too late. I've told them that you wouldn't want to leave your parents, and I don't want to leave them either."
"Morgan…" I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her.
"Why do you want to go so badly?"
"I don't," I stuttered. "I just think that you need this opportunity to learn about the lighter half of your family…Get away from the darkness of Ciaran." I smiled up at her.
She gave me a wan smile. "I suppose. But your family's here."
"They can come visit. And I expect that they'll want to move back to Ireland anyway, back with Aunt Shelagh."
She nodded slowly. "Whatever you want to do," Morgan responded, defeat evident in her voice.
I jumped up, kissed her on the cheek, and brought the phone to the table.
HuNtEr'S pOv:
I was staring out of the window as the sun was coming up when the woman came into my room carrying a tray with some breakfast foods on it.
"Are you feeling any better?" she asked with a gleaming smile on her face.
I turned my head toward her and smiled gratefully, "Yes, thanks to you, I suppose?"
She blushed thoroughly for some reason. She set the tray down on the side of the bed. "Can you walk yet?"
"No. What happened to me?" I looked into her face as she played with a fold on the blanket covering me.
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I don't know," she said, shifting her eyes from mine. "I found you on the side of the road in a ditch. A friend of mine helped to carry you here." She smiled again.
I was silent for a while, not knowing what to make of what she had told me: I didn't know whether or not to believe her. "You're a witch," I stated bluntly.
"Yes. So are you," she blinked, not understanding.
I nodded, staying silent. She cleared her throat again.
"Where am I?"
She beamed. "My home. In Ireland."
"You're not Irish?"
"No. I just fell in love with the country when I was visiting, though."
I turned my head back to the window, hearing her sigh audibly.
"Eat when you feel ready," she said, getting up to leave.