"Kittens?" It was said that one could hear lions roar when Astarte spoke in anger, and it was certainly true now. "Yiou mistake me for one of your own," she snarled, and he had no opportunity to behead her sister, as she withdrew a whip and cracked it.

A pretty affectation, some thought it, but Astarte never carried a weapon she wasn't skilled it. The tail of it slashed across Heru's collarbone, barely missing it's mark. Still, the line of blood was satisfying, and Astarte's lips curled into a smirk.

"I am looking forward to you breathing your last," she purred. "I believe that particular moment has been a long time coming. A shame our husband could never quite manage to end you as you so deserve. But if you want anything done properly, you really must depend on a woman, mm?"