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	Fauve slowed her pace when she arrived at the tree-line, as she had noticed a streak of blood on the leaf of a rubber-tree plant. Below the plant was a few more drops of darkening scarlet fluid leading a broken trail into the woods. 

[i]Well, that was easy[/i] 

She pushed her way through the snapped twigs and blood smeared leaves for what must have been a good thirty yards before arriving at a clearing. The source of the blood was a human male, leaning with his back against a tree. As fortune would have it, he was about Fauve’s height and build. Unfortunate for him, he was damn near dead already. The horde had done a good job with this guy, numerous lacerations decorated his chest and right arm. His brown trousers were in a miraculously good condition, though, minus a few small spots of blood, and his boots were much fancier than her usual choice in footwear. But that didn’t matter, it’s not like she was about pay money for them or anything. 

Despite being so close to death that he couldn’t even lift an arm to reach out, his eyes widened with that futile hope for salvation she’d seen so many times before. She knelt beside him and faked a reassuring smile. 

“Ple… hel.. me….” His plead for mercy was so weak, Fauve could barely hear it, but the message was clear. 

“There’s nothing I can do for you, Bub. You’re as good as dead.” She was candid about it, while tapping her index finger on the tip his nose in an oddly playful manner. “But not all is lost. I’m gonna go ahead and put you out of your misery.”  

The young man gave a half shake of his head, apparently not liking the idea too much, and tried his best to form a few words of objection, but failed. 

“Now – now.” She placed her finger on his lips to hush him. “There’s no point in fighting any more. You’re gonna die either way so we might as well make this quick, right? So, what I want you to do is say a little prayer to whatever God you might believe in – And if you don’t believe in any God, well, now might be a good time to start.”  She took her finger from his lips to observe his response.

What energy he had left was present in the horrified look of his eyes. His upper lip trembled as well. That was all he managed to display of his obvious understanding on the matter, not that he was any keener on the idea than he was beforehand. 

“Good. I’m glad we could reach an understanding.” She told him.  

Providing him a few seconds to say whatever silent prayer he may or may not have had to say, she then reached out, faked another smile, and pinched his nostrils closed with finger and thumb, while smothering his mouth with her palm. 

It sure didn’t take long. He barely had enough strength for one final struggle. With a few small jerks of his body and a sloppy flip of one hand it was over. Fauve watched with solemn regard at the life drain free of his terrified glare. That wasn’t the first time she looked someone in the eyes as their soul departed this world, and in a place like Akripola, it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sweet dreams, Bub.”

Another life gone.  

Before too long, Fauve was wearing the dead man’s scuffed, black boots and trousers, and [i]he[/i] was wearing her old shredded trousers. Not like she was so damn hardhearted that she’d leave his corpse naked from the waist down. She did have… uh, well, a few standards, at least. Turns out, though, that his boots were a very specific and custom design, and were perhaps the most comfortable footwear to ever meet her feet. Such was a pleasant surprise. 

While fishing around in her new trouser pockets and finding two gold coins, one silver, she wondered what the dead guys name was; if he had any family left alive, or maybe a wife, friends perhaps, anyone out there who may have been looking for him.  

“Nah.... They’re probably all dead as well. Hell, he was probably the only one left in completing an afterlife family reunion.”  

Feeling half decent about her score, Fauve retrieved a fresh bottle of liquor from her shoulder bag and started making her way back to the gate. At that time, Corc could be heard calling out his own name in the distance, maybe some sort of battle cry.  She laughed and took a swig from the bottle. 

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