Roxanne has been at it for years now, her hobby of trophy hunting evolving in to an obsession that has torn her apart. Macabre trophies litter her unkept manor, there's a method to her messy living space she assures you, if you even get a chance to visit. That mostly stopped long ago, the lynx becoming increasingly paranoid of those closest to and most caring of her. There's no shine to her hair anymore, it's lost much its color and luster from years of neglect, finally cut short without her parents around to nag her in to finding a husband. She never did. Her body and mind are littered with tough lessons - a rabid hyena claiming her arm, ill "friends" her eye, a limp from a stray shot. It still hurt, it always has.

Fame as a hunter and taxidermist has made way for notoriety as a sadist, most hunting publications and guilds denouncing her and removing her from their ranks respectively. It has only added to her isolation and mental degradation, her kills getting slower, drawn out to unnecessary lengths. The swift mercy of a bullet to the neck long gone as she paces behind her prey as it crawls away, planting the 12th non-lethal crossbow bolt in to it's writhing bloody form. She says nothing, revelling in their pain and cries with heavy breath. After losing funding and support from the guilds and publications, she's turned to grey and black markets to sell her skills to make sure her hunt is funded.

Art by http://ormangotang.tumblr.com/

Character is mine