Ariel had taken a light sip of the mead when the booth near her erupted into chaos. She watched as the small woman struck down a man with... with a frying pan? Brow knitting in confusion, Ariel shoved her hood back a little because she couldn't have truly seen a... oh my. Amusement sent a flush of warmth through her blue eyes as she watched the man tumble to the dirty floor with a considerably more flattened face. Ariel watched with curiosity as the woman stood up to the advancing men and then bolted. The enchanted knife was still warm, so while everyone ran after the girl or gawked out the swinging door, Ariel bent over the prone man and pretended to be checking his vital signs while pressing the knife's tip against his throat. She stilled, however, wondering if perhaps he wasn't a good kill – obvious, too open, and then the other would surely be accused of murder. Which might not matter much for her, but it was altogether a little too messy. Scowling, Ariel tucked the knife away and quickly left the inn.
She didn't see the woman, but the trail of shouting men was a sufficient guide for Ariel. Catching up to the rear of the group, Ariel deftly tripped a couple men at the rear and blended into the remaining three. As she pretended to double over and caught the arm of one of the men, Ariel peered ahead. She wasn't sure if she was helping the woman or wanted to kill her rather than let some dirty men beat or kill her. Regardless, the man who currently turned to her with his upper lip curled up in a snarl was caught by surprise when her fist caught him in the throat. Eyes springing wide, the man opened and closed his mouth in surprise and groped for his throat. Ariel slammed her knee up into his crotch and shoved him back against a wall before springing forward to catch up to the remaining two.
Ariel stumbled with a stifled cry as the pain in her legs seemed to burn even hotter, calf muscles seizing, though she didn't know if was because of the enchantment or the rarity of exercising her legs. The knife on her hip was rapidly cooling but Ariel's determination wouldn't let her forsake the chase – if she couldn't find the woman and steal her voice, one of the two men would do just as well. Damn it all, she thought, feeling decidedly belligerent. Hooking a right into a narrow passage between houses, Ariel wandered by following the knife's varying temperatures, her pace quickening occasionally with bursts of excitement, each time being quelled by the pain.
Perhaps I should make a deal with that Rumplestiltskin fellow and steal Ursula's powers. That'd make everything so much easier. The thought wasn't an entirely knew one, but it was stronger than usual and as Ariel wove through the town in search of her intended victim, she contemplated the possibilities of killing the vile sea witch and taking her power... but preferably not her form.