Pick your poison.

Noelie, though still seated, craned forward as she listened. The yearling was already calculating her next move, waiting for just the right moment to ...

"Oh, I'm sorry.  You die.  The end."

Her jaw went slack as the light in her eyes died. She blinked once, twice, her gaze never straying from Fir's face, not even when the little duck creature came and retrieved the.. whatever they were called. "H.. how.. but that's not fair!" He was a bad guy, and bad guys weren't supposed to win. Clearly Fir had made an error.. or maybe Noelie had just come too close to winning, so the sage-furred woman decided to end it early.

Word Count: 104