Carrion

The mirror was scurrying around the lair, in a fruitless panic covered in a pile of burning papers and weapons.
"Darn those fire faes, trying to destroy the library with their puny matchstick flames. Just more things that I have to take care of!"
She pulls out tiny piece of wing from her mouth.
"Well, at least I nicked one of their wings. Little disinfected rats."
She stamps on some of the papers still lit, putting out the cinders before it got further damaged.
She pulls the weapons off a sack attached to her back, throwing them into a chute to be sent to the metalsmith's room.
"INCOMING!" She shouted up the pipe before slapping it with her tail a couple times. She then looked all over her arms, since they were covered in writing of things she needed to do. Some of it was smudged. She hissed a putrid green gas before grabbing the mirror around her neck, holding it up to let her see her frills, for they were covered in writing as well. She examined it to see her tasks.
"Ahh, Seedscar! It's my turn to fight off that horrid tree today, and I also have to get Mutton's order by noon. What time is it?"
She looked at her clock before squealing and running out the door, for the time was already half past noon.

The time is 3 am, and Carrion enters the lair with a dislocated frill and several bruises.
"Of course that wretched gaoler needed that before noon. Because if not, that horrid beast would immediately wreak havoc again." She flops onto her bed, only to be woken up by a hoard of fae surrounding her with fire all charged.

Carrion finishes throwing out the last of the fae, frills drooping in fright as they scatter and sneeze.
"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR FIGHTING THE PLAGUE!"
She collapsed in bed and barely got a minute's worth of sleep before one of her timers went off, dropping a bucket on her head.