I get a surprise visitor at night.

“Psst.”

You keep your eyes shut despite waking up. “Warren. It’s me.”

The voice belongs to Scarlet, but you can’t see her in the dull glow the hearth provides now. You can make out a soft red tint in the room's darkness. “Scarlet?”

“Yeah,” she sounds whiny for some reason. “I’m here to–”

“Careful,” you grab and cover her mouth. “I’m not in here alone–”

Scarlet pushes you off. “I know– I already cared for that girl in here.”

Your head buzzes. “What do you mean?”

“She’s dead,” she confirms. “First thing I did when I got in here.”

The casual announcement of Janet’s **** made your head spin. You didn’t suspect running into her again after getting out of this situation, but it finally dawned on you that she was destined to die by your hand, in one way or another at least.

You saw the outline of Scarlet’s face and studied it until it was familiar to a degree of trust. This wasn’t Astrid that much for sure, but you almost wished she was there to clear your head. Behind Scarlet is a large body-shaped lump in a heavy wool blanket— Janet.

You shake these thoughts and emerge from the blankets you used to stay warm. Scarlet wrapping herself around you in a tight embrace surprised you more than anything else. “I’m glad you’re OK,” she said. “I’m sorry for leaving you when you were up on the tree. I didn’t want both of us to get captured.”

Your face felt hot, and you hugged her back in return. You thought she smelled a little wild, perhaps even dirty, from being outside all day. “No, you’re fine, Scarlet. Thanks for getting me out.”

Her dark eyes are lifeless voids in the low light, but the outline of her face paints the memories with her involved. Her warmth envelopes your hands like a warm, lingering breeze. Her scent still fills your senses. Scarlet licks her lower lip and swallows as if she’s studying you the same way. But she shakes her head and stands up, helping you to your feet. Your blankets fall, and soon you are up with her.

“Listen,” she starts to say. “I found the others– Amara’s smugglers– I’ve got this entire camp in a killzone. As soon as we step out, I’m lighting it up.”

It’s a lot to take in, and you’re suddenly glad to know the only person you established a relationship with was Janet. “Let’s get out and get this over with then. Did you find–”

“Your gear?” Scarlet cuts in. “Of course. I had one of the girls take it up to one of the firing positions.”

When you step out, you’re blanketed in blackness. Unlike the tent's interior, there is no glowing hearth, and the world is still asleep. Your footsteps sound loud, but no one stirs to investigate the crunching of snow pockets or the snapping branches. You know Janet must not have been the first **** for the company resigning in this camp; Scarlet likely killed the scouts and sentries patrolling outside already.

Collectively, you and Scarlet spray a few lines of kerosene over the canvas tents, lighting little fires on your way out of the camp. It isn’t exactly humble, either. The fires spread quickly and are fast to caused panic among the sleeping. The alarmed screaming echoes in the forest, and you hear bursts of controlled machinegun fire rip past the screams when you're finally returning to the tree line. You and Scarlet control one area with your M16s. Unlike the others, you don’t mow down whoever you see. Instead, you spit out a few bullets like it’s target practice. Scarlet spits 2-3 rounds while they’re running and follows herself with the same semi-automatic tap when they fall. The process is almost inhumane, but you comb over the entire mercenary group without taking any unnecessary infliction on your part.

Twenty minutes, probably less, is all it takes before the whole camp is fire with no survivors. Scarlet exhales when she drops her magazine and replaces it with another. The bolt release is pressured, and the carrier group slams forward. You both scan the area, almost expecting someone to shoot at you, but all that happens is the end of the group pestering Amara’s smuggling team.

Scarlet moves out of the treeline and starts to go over the bodies. Occasionally, she’ll stop and shoot one of them but is otherwise on a morbid stroll through the carnage she set fire to. You follow a few feet before checking over the bodies she walked past, doing more or less of the same process she was doing without you. On the other end, you see three figures waiting for Scarlet, and you suppose for you too.

Their characteristics are feminine, but nothing about them really sticks out until you notice bushy tails behind them. You pause intentionally to lag further behind. Scarlet slings her plastic rifle around her shoulder and stretches.

“Good job, kits,” Scarlet says with a yawn. “They had no idea what hit them.”

“Are you sure you got all of them? If any of them lived, they’d definitely tell someone about what happened, then we’ll have a bigger problem on our hands.”

“I’m sure someone got out alive,” Scarlet confirms. “But that’s the point of this all. The message. We just mopped a whole camp full of paid mercenaries without so much losing one of our own.”

The girl who spoke for the trio groans. “I don’t think–”

"You're not even paid, so try not to think at all! " Scarlet snaps out of the yawn.

The trio falls into silence, and somehow you feel that she's touched a sensitive subject. The foxgirl's hands balls into fists while her expression tightens. Despite that, however, when she replies, it's in an controlled tone and hides no venom. "You're right. I'm sorry for speaking out of order."

Scarlet sighs, almost looking like she's about to apologies, but her expression hardens at the last moment and all she does is growl instead. "Yeah. Don't do that again, or I'll put your head on a stick."

"Scarlet," you say from behind.

She looked back and shrugs. "I'm joking. Arabella and her girlfriends were little angels for the cause. There's no way I would have saved the contract with them." Behind you, one of the fires ignites an ammo cache, and soon, bullets are snapping uselessly as their primers are burned hot enough to pop. You look behind you and see one of the tents is now sparking like a firework gone wrong.

"Was there anything else you wanted us to do?" Arabella says, hugging herself while her "girlfriends" close in around her. "We have a lot of catching up to do, so it might be better if we just...split our ways, but we are at your service."