On one shoulder, there was a very sensible little version of herself reminding her that this was not her prey or her job. She’d done what she came into the land of Dragon dogs to do. She should leave and collect her handsome pay. In short, she should stick to the plan. On the other shoulder was a different tiny version of herself. This version was screaming bloody murder. Cut out his heart! It demanded over and over. It cried for her to do what she was made to do: slay Dragons. It wasn’t hard to pick which one to listen to.
