But that remaining hour couldn’t seem to offer anything bigger than a mouse left, and the price of a dead mouse was a fraction of a live one these days now that fancy ladies were suddenly desperate to have them as pets. Yvette reluctantly found her way to the pest piles that sit outside the south entrance of the city. Here hunters trade their catch for guild tickets, and the corpses split into two piles: Harvest or Destroy. Woolly rats found in the sewers of Rheonnik are, unsurprisingly, destroyed. ‘Feral things, only good for the fire pit.’ as Hadrian always says.

“Ah, Yvette. Lovely to see ya.”

The Pile worker flashes a forced grin, holding out his char-smudged hands for Yvette’s catch as she smiles politely, handing the cage over. 

“And what‘ave we got, eh love? One…. Two…”

The man sarcastically counts her measly catch, as Yvette watches on unflinching.

“...Six. Six rats. Well, we’ll ‘ave to reward such a superb effort.”

He yanks the rats from the cage, and slowly scrawls the details of her catch on a bounty ticket. 

“Thought Hadrian said the snake woman was better at hunting down there.” 

His voice is loud now as if he were having a conversation with the other workers, who are clearly too far away and busy to hear a word. 

“Starting to think those pointy devil ears of hers are painted on too! She never says a word back."

He glances up at Yvette, pausing for a reaction she refuses to give him. The man watches her for a moment but concedes with a shrug, signing the ticket and handing it to her with the now empty cage.

“Come again, love.” He flashes her another exaggerated smile, and she forces a polite nod back.

“Ass! Every time!” She takes a deep breath and walks away as calmly as she can. No use picking a fight with the man who signs her bounty ticket. No matter how tempting.

She tucks the ticket into her waist pouch and walks without looking back.

Last stop before returning to the guild is the stream on the North-East side of the city, the same one that feeds the sewer tunnels. At this end the water is clear and fresh, feeding a rich growth of plants and wildflowers that spread freely up the stream banks all the way into the forest. 

“Snakes don’t have ears you stupid man!” She pouts as she catches her reflection waving back to her in the running stream, running her hands around the tips of her long pointed ears shyly. Here under the warm evening sunlight, her stone-grey skin almost appeared to have colour. Normal colour. 

“Stop it.” She chides herself, and quickly looks away before the sinking thoughts can grab hold of her properly. 

Prowling the foul tunnels under Rheonnik requires a cleansing before she returned aboveground. Wild bergamot had recently sprung up, and today they looked ready to harvest. A small smile of genuine joy spreads across Yvette’s otherwise very serious face as she places sprigs of her favourite scented plants inside her pockets, button holes, and cuffs. Every bit helps.

Then as the sun begins to dim behind the city walls, she pulls the thick hood of her hunting rob over her head and walks toward the eastern entrance.