She wanted to kill him. Ahsoka had to admit that much to herself as she found her body moving of its own accord, stepping over the demon to be within lightsaber's reach of Hux. She didn't think about raising her mainhand weapon to his neck, with the clean, sharp end of its white beam illuminating his face and likely heating his skin. It was just there, waiting for her to take the last motion required to kill him the same way she had the demon.

But there would be no point. Hope would bring him back. It wouldn't do anything but put unnecessary blood on her hands and take this monster out of commission for a few days. And Ahsoka liked to think she better than petty murder. He wasn't a real threat, despite what the pain in her leg told her. Because he wasn't, at the end of the day. He'd be no match for her in a fight to the death.

"No," she said evenly, eventually. "I have better things to do."

So she wasn't going to kill him. Instead, she thumbed her shoto off and let her fingers flex around the hilt as she raised her hand to gesture, using the invisible hand of the Force to grab him roughly by the neck and throw him into the nearest hard, uneven cave wall. It wasn't a gentle toss, but hard enough to knock him out, hard enough to hurt.

She was a better person than a petty murderer, but that didn't necessarily mean she was a perfect one.