A corpse, a quiet night in which naught but the wind was stirring.
Her Mother was a traitor and never gave her what she wanted.
Hate had consumed her and this was the first kill that Huruthol ever made.
The body was flayed and hung on a lamp post.
A sick grin consuming her lips.
"This feeling... this power... is satisfying".
"To know that you can take a life and live on yourself."

