Seeing the world from someone else's eyes was always a gratuitious experience. Impossible to describe, but the way she crept forward, legs circling around the small pieces of bark protruding from the wood was almost graceful. She was truly getting the hang of this. Mother would be proud, Morrigan thought, and then instantly dismissed it. No, Flemeth had better things to do than to praise Morrigan for the her studies, self-taught, on shapeshifting. If anything, Flemeth would just make comparisons to her own experience when she was Morrigan's age--more or less? She would always be better.
Eighteen years old and climbing a tree, unnoticed to anyone or anything that passed by? To her, that was a fairly incredible feat.
BOOM. Morrigan would have flinched if her current body had a way of doing that (it didn't). Honing in on the noise, amplified by how small she was at current and the difference in volume from the senses of the arachnid, Morrigan focused on the source of the crash and surveyed a body washed up by the riverbed. He must have been swept downstream, struggling against the current, most likely, until he'd been unable to keep himself afloat. Ensuring for a moment the body didn't move, Morrigan shifted back to her normal self, stretching out a hand to ensure that the change had been complete. A small smirk as the back of her hand was free of stiff spider bristles. It'd been a bit of a shock, before--but nothing that her fingernails couldn't fix.
Making her way over to the mouth of the river, she was quiet on her approach, still wary that the man might wake up. She'd had her fair share of run ins with travelers; not many of them pleasant. Flemeth had taught her how to treat people she came across, and it had never once gotten in her way. But seeing someone lost to the unforgiving tide of the river was just... different. He wasn't trying to steal from her, or hurt her. He was just.... there.
A suspicious scowl crept upon her lips, a deep frown setting in as she nudged a foot to the lifeless body upon reaching it. "So... I take it that you're dead. Or... something." Talking wasn't helping, so she got a bit closer to further inspect the damage. He was laying on his back, and had probably swallowed a fair amount of water through the river. The Korcari Wilds were not known for being gentle to strangers unfamiliar with their landscape... and inhabitants.
She had little to no experience in attempting rescue, save for what she had heard by word of mouth from her mother. But clearing the lungs was an obvious first. With some difficulty, she rolled the man over to force the water to spill out of his lungs. An added punch to his back, just for good measure. Or perhaps, simply because it was a man.
I hope that he doesn't die here, Morrigan thought to herself as the uncontrollable hacking began. She wasn't sure what would draw more attention to the area: the dead man or disposing of the body. Still, a stranger in the Wilds invited a sliver of curiosity. No one who knew better came here without good reason. So why had he--and alone?
Further inspection gave her the answer. Circle robes. It had taken a moment to recognize the insignia patterened across them, since she wasn't too familiar with the ways of the civilized humans when it came to be up close and personal. What was a Circle mage doing in the middle of the most dangerous place possible for a Circle mage?
Dying, she supposed.
"I haven't got all day," Morrigan noted to the body on the ground, "So if you're going to go, won't you just... get a move on? I suppose I can help the process along." She exhaled an exasperated sigh at the thought, that likely went unnoticed by the man coughing his brains out.