[ The scene flares with her anger, hazy at the edges, focused only on the traders, their toothy smiles, the one who had been playing with a knife as she had spoken to him. Her sharp disapproval for their poor manners, their embarrassment to be chastised by a girl barely twenty years old, small and with golden hair. His death itself happens in a flash, lashing out instinctually when they follow her as she turns to walk away from them. Barely the glitter of the knife before she's buried it deep under his jawline. Swift, thoughtless, assured that it is the best course of action, act now or suffer later. ]
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( Such things happen. )