A Justified Jerk

I arrived after midnight. The old crone was in a rocking chair outside her shack, threading one last prepared piece of meat onto a drying rack.

"You could have come in the day. But at least I got some winter preparations done."

I went to speak when she shook her head.

"I don't need justifications."

She tossed me a small jar.

"Just a few drops will kill."

I considered this, and then unscrewed the top and tossed some drops on her.

I probably should have wondered why she hasn't seen it coming, certainly enough not to steal the poisoned meat.