Blackfeather Woods I've taken shits better than the lot of you

And it was done. The child was sentenced to death, a cruel thing, but necessary. She would not waste precious time and resources on a child unable to fend for himself in the future. Perhaps, with training, he might have grown to compensate for his twisted leg, but the Dark Brotherhood had not the resources or energy to do so through the winter. He would have to die.

Potema could hear the cawing of the crows and ravens long before the child was found, twisted and mangled. She knew what would happen to his flesh, and perhaps what would happen to his weak bones. She wondered what she could do with what skeleton remained, letting such dark thoughts cloud her mind to push away Althaia's sadness. She slipped past the woman into the hidden tunnel, fading into the Web and leaving the grieving mother alone.