Margaery glanced to Hannibal, waiting silently with him during that long pause. She smiled slowly as Hannibal revealed the true hopelessness of the situation to Littlefinger. There was absolute venom in her eyes and wickedness in her smile. She reveled in the horror that rushed across his face.

She slipped into the saddle with Hannibal's help and gave him a playful smile. Moanna was chomping at the bit. She wanted to hunt, she wanted to hurt this man. Margaery clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth to keep her still. Moanna knew to obey her mistress.

When Littlefinger didn't move - stunned, at first - Margaery pulled an arrow to her bow, and with a practiced hand fired at his feet, making the man jump back like a scared deer. "He thinks this a game, I see," she replied. "He doesn't grasp the severity of the situation."

Littlefinger dropped back. He stumbled off to put distance between them. "At least five minutes."