The Half Orc woman sat on a trees branch, one leg propped up on the branch as she played the flute to pass the time. A small talent her mother had pushed for her to learn, one her father had condoned as a bit useless. Though she had caught him one night while she was practicing, listening to its shrill tunes while holding her mothers hands. Ah, how she missed them... Beside her layed her upright quiver and satchel, along with her pack. Her bow and a single arrow lay in her lap. Wrathia was not one to stay out in the open. Today, however, she had a purpose.
 
Beneath her passed a stage coach carrying her prize today. Mm, it wasn't often she took these sort of jobs but it did rake in good money. She waited for the stage coach's horses to run by before hooking her knees on the trees branches and swinging upside down. Her white hair taking with the gravity as she did. She drew out her bow and pulled the arrow back on the string. From this upside down position, she could see right through the stage coaches back window, a specific lady in waiting sitting opposite of it looking quite frazzled as she pulled her skirts back down; a mistress to the local lord. Wrathia looked down the sights of the arrow...

And Fired.

Straight on, dead center of the mistress's forehead and she slumped foreward. Meanwhile the driver remained oblivious, and continued on his merry way down the path. Wrathia, her abdominals flexing, pulled herself back upright on her tree branch, pulled a paper out and made a checkmark next to the name of the woman she had killed. She smirked as she looked at the paper, her eyes burning with a mild hatred that was steadily growing in size. [url=http://vocaroo.com/i/s0zr4GSmQtW6]"The Tender-Flesh is nothing but filth."[/url] She murmured.

Wrathia dropped from the branches and began her walk back to her home cottage that had once been raided by the Filth who molested the diversity of a population. She would claim her prize money later.