It was a cold winters morning, she could feel the frozen grass biting at her bare feet as she was being brought out of her cell. The linen bag they had placed over her head only let through the faintest of light, but then she did not need light to tell her where she was going. The Light had long since abandoned her, despite what the vicar had tried to tell her only moments ago, she knew - and she knew she was going to die. She never resisted even as they put the noose around her neck, she had accepted the path before her a long time ago... and it's not like it would accomplish anything. In his usual droning voice the self-righteous bastard began the ritual that was supposed to make this different from what she had done.