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It was a wrath crime.
The way they shoved her to the ground.
The way they put they weight on her shoulder.
She trashed. Like a animal in cage.
That she did. And she did scream.
"How could you be her ?"
One of the man said.
The one in front of her.
His pathetic shem face full of disgust.
A blade in his hand. Intent in is eyes.
"... a knife-ear... like you."
And she did'n't flinch did'n't she ?
Her nose scrunch. Blood underneath.
Her eyelids heavy. Eyes glassy.
She just looked at him.
... And spit.
Giving another a jolt of her shoulder.
Even if it didn't matter.
Even if it didn't change the way they hold her.
She just look at him.
With that look she learn from Josephine.
The entitlement.
The haughtiness.
A face that wasn't *her*.
But the one the gave to her opponant.
Her ennemie.
And all of those people that saw in her only a symbol.
As the Many Eyes would always do.
As the Chantrie teach them to be.
Grabbing.
Distording.
The truth.
Her being.
They're being.
Afterall. How an Elvhen could be the Inquisitor ?
So. Of course.
He responded.
With his fist.
As man always do.
And it was blinding.
And it was numbing.
When her head took the hit.
When her head hit the ground.
She barely heard them talk.
And she stop to move.
For a instant.
For a moment.
Her eyes rolling in their orbit.
Her tear rolling on her temple.
Her blood rolling on her shin.
"... fucking bitch..."
It all she heard.
And her sense start to came back.
Before it started.
The slicing.
The cutting.
"... i'll make her the Inquisitor if she want to be ..."
Because, in her stillness, in her stuness, she let them move her.
Didn't put out a fight. Barely felt her fingers on her.
When they move her head, her hair.
When they flattened her ear.
And.
She scream.
She cried.
While the blunt of the blade incised.
Without precision. Or even mercy.
Nah. They're raw hatred in full display.
And, All Mother, it hurt.
It hurt.
It hurt.
It hurt.
While he try to round it.
While he sawed it.
But she didn't beg.
No. She wouldn't.
Oh. She couldn't.
She won't let them.
She was Elvhen.
She was Dalish.
She would live through it.
Even if she struggles.
Even if she ...
Please.
Please.
Please.
Please.
... Loose herself in it.
She wouldn't beg.
She wouldn't let them know
Even if she cried.
Even if she sob.
Even if she trashed.
Fervanis was still hight in the sky.
And the smell of the wood was still powerful.
As the rivers was still audible.
And the wind still jostle softly the grass.
It was only a hate crime.
It was only their ignorance.
The Many Eyes would want her to let it go.
Probably that she pardon them.
Cause.. How would they know ?
How could an Elvhen be her ?
She must be a liar.
They didn't know any better.
They didn't know any better.
They didn't know any better.
They didn't know any better.
.... And they will pay for it.