Bitterroot wondered if it said anything about her that she didn’t have much of a reaction. She’d seen worse. She’d seen much, much worse. She’d stopped worse from happening. There was only a single pony here, after all. Yet: “only” a pony? That shouldn’t make it any less horrible. If she kept saying it was “only” a pony, she might start thinking chasing down her quarry wasn’t worth it. That happened to some jaded bounty hunters. But if she let herself feel fully, let her rage boil over, she wouldn’t be able to think rationally and her target would get away. It was a fine line to balance between pushing your emotions aside entirely and letting them rule you.