<div class="floatleft">(http://media.moddb.com/images/groups/1/6/5425/sexy-russian-army-babe-uniform.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong><br/><strong>Professions:</strong>Ranger / Rifleman<br/><strong>Damage Capacity</strong><br/><em>Physique:</em>5<br/><em>Agility:</em>4<br/><em>Intellect:</em>3<br/><strong>Defense:</strong>15<br/><strong>ARM:</strong>0<br/><strong>Feat Points:</strong>3<br/><hr/><br/>The tracks reminded her of a hunt.  A hunt where she had been too young and too careless with her bullets, a newly crowned hunter that had wounded her prey instead of outright killing.  Cold and without the moon to guide her, Asinya’s father had made her track the beast.  Never waste what nature had provided and never leave an animal to suffer for a hunter’s mistake.  She had learned the value of a single shot kill that night, but had also learned to recognize a wounded animal.  Long strides showed the power of the creature as the heart pumped out blood to maximize the flight.  Then came the downfall and exhaustion of shorter steps and weaker strides.  When the compression of snow became larger, she knelt down to trace her fingers over the shape.<br/><br/>Leather and fur touched the snow before she then angled her fingers to dip into the hooved tracks.  A rider of some sort from the depth and then the depth grew afterward.  More weight suddenly, in the middle of nowhere.  Curious but expected.  Asinya rose upward to make pursuit of the tracks that ventured toward the city.  At her back the repeating rifle was slung, her hand quietly resting against the butt to keep the weapon from slapping at her.  Around her the cold increased, but she had long since grown used to a life of ice and frigid air.  Only when a familiar voice called down to her did she give pause.  Eyes turned upward to stare at the source.  Asinya did not cease moving forward, but continued her calm pace.<br/><br/>“Just me.  Quiet night out in the wood, but you have been busy for such a cold night haven’t you?”<br/>