Shyama nodded her head solemnly as the clock struck the hour. In a sense, she had brought this fate upon herself - but in truth, even if only by one vote, she would still have been chosen this round. Frozen Paw nodded back, and lead her away. Shyama didn't want to die, of course she didnt. But she had already resigned herself to this fate, and possibly a lot earlier than this. She was, after all, suspicious by nature. Those of the family corvidae were rarely trusted.
Some were hopeful that Shyama's resignation was a sign of guilt, but others were suspicious that it may be a bluff, that she may have intended, at the last moment, to get the same reaction out of the others that she got from Sakura. It hadn't gone the way she planned, but Shyama could simply fly off in a flash if she truly wished to escape this fate. She was either guilty and surrendering, or innocent and a martyr.
Frozen Paw returned after a short while. The others looked at her anxiously, holding their breath or twiddling their paws.
"It was not Shyama." She said. "We should know better than to judge on appearance and nature. Have we all forgotten Poopkee, the first to be killed?" Her tone was sharp, but she still retrained herself. Anger wasn't good for her. "Many of you thought him to be frightening, strange, but he was innocent as the rest of us and the first to lose his life in this horrible series of events. I can't tell who the killer is, but I implore you to think clearly about your decisions in the future." She paused, and then sighed. "Go back to your homes. I have said it before, but I will say it again. Please, lock your doors, your windows, even board up your letterboxes if you have to. Just be safe."
When the night came, nobody wanted to go to eachother's houses again. It may have kept some of them safe, but everybody felt like a betrayer. This had been a traumatic ordeal, that much was certain, and many of the few remaining villagers wanted nothing more than to crawl away and hide.
Crispin was not sociable anyway, but these events had made him even more sour. Some kept voting for him, throwing him under the bus though he'd done nothing but detest company. He 'humph'ed to himself as a tree rattled against his window, shaken by the cold winter wind. He became alert when he heard a soft 'pat' on the floor, and held his breath for a moment. But it was too late.
Frozen Paw gathered the last seven villagers in the town square next morning.
"Crispin has been killed." She said. "Even he, who you still suspected in your prejudice, is now gone. We really don't know who this is, but you can no longer judge on looks or personality. It is time to judge on actions. It is time to judge right."
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