She'd slink through the awning night with little trouble, bidding the carriage she had ... sequestered to sit, stay, good pet while she went off to handle her work. It seemed she'd have to come into possession of a boat as well to make it the full distance of her target, but she lingered on the cliffside before following its trail down. Serenity. Waters untouched by notions of good nor evil, martyrdom or tyranny, existing only to ebb along its flow and reflect the moon above. She caught this reflection, raised a hand in a moment of apparent whimsy, and held it in her palm: the moon and more, just for her. Might she'd one day bring it down.
Maybe she'd just drag it along like a child's balloon.
She left her musings behind with her descent to the cove below, trailing her hand through shadowless air until darkness coalesced about her fingers and stirred in the night. Yes, she could do just as well with moonlight as without. There were few matters she couldn't make opaque. Call it a quirk of hers, paired with that cutting little smile. A rowing boat was an easy ask and the shades to man it barely a lift of her arm, for there was no one to contend with her display of authority and fewer else to argue with the flash of her teeth.
It was only ten minutes to find the den of this beast and a matter of seconds to pierce it through with uncountable tendrils from the shadows of its home -- impaled, betrayed. She hadn't even given the misshapen fish-like monstrosity a chance to plead its case or argue its life; it had disgusting her, malformed and rank, and she had cleared it from her sight lest she suffer its presence further. Its death would do for her payment.
And no life was worth more than her coffers.
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