Everything had been heard.

The first few words she’d flicked her ears forward, wondering if she had been imagining it, but then as she crept forward, curiosity enticing her and without any care for her own regard, she listened intently. It seemed he wanted something done. He wanted someone gone, killed, and the snakelike woman creeps closer.

His eyes found her, and she watched as he looked directly at her. He beckoned her, she thought, and Maraigh came forward.

The distance between them was shortened. Maraigh stopped, head up and dark eyes locked upon his, as she who was ugly and scarred stood before him. She was no ray of sunshine or beauty in the slightest. Her hide was littered in old marks, ranging in size and severity. There was no hair adorning her head, her crest empty and flat. Her coat was short despite the winter’s grasp, and she did not shiver in the cold. She didn’t feel it.

“It appears you have a problem,” she begins. She smiles, unkind. “Perhaps I could be of assistance,” she suggests almost innocently, yet unable to feign that kind of emotion well.

The offer was there, though loose. Maraigh was up for a challenge, should he take her on...