Matilda crouched to get a closer look at the scene in front of her. She was careful not to disturb anything on the dirt floor, hopefully leaving only bootprints. Hopper, her gremlin, climbed out of the leather satchel at her side and perched on her shoulder. He took a deep inhale through his nose.

“Poison,” he murmured in her ear.

She nodded, noticing the sickly sweet scent in the air. Her eyes locked onto a small broken vial next to the body.

“He drink it?” Matilda asked Hopper.

The gremlin took another deep inhale. “No. Too much scent in the air. He breathed it. Fumes atrophied his lungs. Suffocated him.”

Matilda looked to the gremlin on her shoulder, alarmed. Hopper merely shook his head, anticipating her worries as usual.

“Too much time has passed. No danger from fumes now.”

Relieved, Matilda surveyed the scene again. Hopper stayed quiet and waited. After a few moments, Matilda nodded, confirming something to herself, and pulled out a leather bound notebook from her satchel. She opened to a fresh page and gently laid the book open on the dirt floor.

“Agent Matilda, two nights post-full moon,” she said aloud. As she spoke, words appeared on the page as if written by an invisible hand. “Residence in Bairns Hollow. Victim is of satyr blood, male, approximately mid-lifespan. Found deceased on floor. Broken glass vial next to body suggests poison inhalation, damaging the lungs. Healer to confirm.”

She paused for a moment and scanned the scene again.

“End notes,” she said, and the notebook closed on its own. There would be more notes later. Pages and pages of notes as she dove deeper into the satyr’s mysterious death.