The Morrigan literally flinched at the idea of her name being some kind of prop.  Her power was waning, it's true, but she'd gone through so many cycles that it was hard imagine it all just fading into obscurity.<br/><br/>"I'm a Queen, not a brand."  She said with a sneer in her irish brogue.  "I've never met you, Miss Future, but I've met your type.  Far, far too many.  You think you can just offer me some honey, and I'll dance to your tune."  She leaned in close to the girl.  The Morrigan smelled of ash wood, and her hair fell down one side of her head to rest in front of her shoulders.<br/><br/>"You may be the prettiest little thing to come along with something like this, but my answer remains the same."  She crossed her arms and glared at her, daring her to cross her.  Crows began to land on the window sills of the train station.  At one time, it would have been a dark portent indeed.  But now... now it was just another reminder that her birds were foiled by the tempered glass in the windows.