[center][h3][color=00a651][u]Mitra[/u][/color][/h3][/center]

In retrospect, maybe getting shot at again would've been alright.

Mitra stares down the weapon, his twitching tail betraying his fear. He doesn't know why Abberline wants this compass so badly, or what he's planning on hunting tonight. Maybe it'd be for the best to return the compass. Their plan was impulsive and contingent on several factors, none of which seem to have panned out. But also, giving Abberline the compass feels like letting him win. Like he and the spirit got shot for no damn reason. Like he handed over his shotgun and trusted these people for nothing.

Then the shotgun goes off. Then the handgun.

Mitra yelps and feels his hand contract. Hears a crunch. Feels pain. It turns out the sound of a shotgun and a gun going off in rapid succession is actually quite startling when you're not the one pulling the trigger. He opens his hand to reveal, to himself and Abberline, assuming Abberline's even capable of paying attention at this point, the broken toy compass.

Some magic could probably fix it. But that's a resource Abberline doesn't have the most regular access to, Mitra's pretty sure.