Maybe the axe was overkill, having been wielded with a vehemence any other mirror would be wholly undeserving of: a kick would have been plenty, maybe a fist. This one, unfortunately, had the gall to take on an appearance that sparks the bloodlust of vengeance—even if that vengeance is one some time since resolved. Rather than prying the axe out of the mirror's remains, Wisteria lets it dissipate.

"They haven't been worth anything for millennia." Dismissive, but she frowns at the pile of glass and backing all the same. Weighs a little what it might mean, if it means anything, against her own encounters. She turns her gaze onto Thancred. "Remember that."