Drinking, reading, and staring out the window was a nice day to spend relaxing and not working. A single pint of a dark beer a book she had read three times over and watching a fellow scout get chewed out. Netty of course was more of a tracker but she technically fell into the same category and she knew the guy, she did not like him. She sat alone and watched the fiery woman beat on the taller man. She could not hold back a small chuckle. He must had seriously screwed up and if it was his fault bodies were being carried back instead of walking back then she didn't feel to bad about giggling at the man's pain. It was idiots like that, that made the rest of the people in her line of work look bad.<br/><br/>The thin brunette ran her fingers through her hair assessing the wind and dust issue outside and then deciding to go ahead and brave it. She had a few errands to run, pick up her father's large dagger from the smith(one of the very few people she let touch it),  who had sharpened it for her and then go visit her parents graves since it had been awhile the last time she visited them. Although the weather might put a damper on that last plan. Netanya tossed a nod to the owner in thank for her "freebie" beer, anyone who put there lives in harms way for the good of them all got one on the house, then shut her book and walked out, quickly pulling the hood to her jacket up over her head and holding it there to shield her eyes.<br/><br/>She saw the wounded boy and he looked at her hoping to get some help as he hobbled his way towards the infirmary. He said hello and Netty just looked at him, with her usual blank expression and put a hand on his shoulder and stared him right in the eye.<br/>"You made the rest of us look bad... don't do that."<br/><br/>She gave a curt nod and let him complete his walk of shame alone. Her hands held her hood up as she made her way towards Iron Hand's forge. He may or may not be there but she'd try and hope he was there She didn't like being without her main weapon, especially since it held sentimental value. Her  leisurely walk turned into a slight jog - not that she was in a hurry but this wind was a nuisance and it looked like someone wanted to talk to her about it.