The young woman crouched, her forearms resting on her thighs, her murky blue eyes taking in the gruesome scene. A dagger dangled from one hand, still wet with blood as she had the kindness in her stone heart to finish off one man who was dying too slowly. He had been impaled on a broken tree limb, in a rather vulnerable if not fatal place on his body. She spat at the roots of the old oak and turned at the sound of foot steps.
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