Ficly

The assassin

Bacio sat in the hay pile, turning a gold coin between her fingers while the moon sliced her face through the holes in the wooden wall. Her chest rose and fell softly, and her bright grey eyes pierced through the night. She sighed, and rested her arm on her chest. She turned over, and shivered as a cold wind wafted through the barn. Her teeth chattered, and body quivered. She sat up, and looked down at the hay covered floor below, and grinned as a mouse skittered out from below a pile of hay. She chuckled softly, and swung her feet. Lussuria purred, and flapped over onto her shoulder. Bacio pulled a small fish from her side pouch and fed it to the hawk. She stroked her pet’s head, and stared at the blinding orb in the sky through a large hole in the ceiling. Stars sparkled vainly in the pitch black canvas, completing the image. She began to sing softly in Italian, it sounded beautifully mournful. Her hood fell over her gentle face, leaving only her pale lips in view.

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