All chickens look the same? The nerve of that bastard, Camilla thought as she silently crept through the wild in search for her mark. There is no way he could have mistaken that fat bitch for me. I saw how he was flaunting her around on that awards show. Carrying her around under his arm like he used to…like he used to carry…me.

She wiped her eyes with a wing and adjusted her shoulder holster. No time to think about the asshole right now. I have a job to do. Why did he have to pop back into my life after all this time?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves behind her. She drew her pistol and dove behind a tree.

She heard a voice say, “I swear I just saw a chicken walk through here.”

She glanced around the tree and saw two hunters walking along, rifles slung over their shoulders. Shit! They can’t get to my mark before I do. This is going to be a higher body count than I expected.

She waited for the hunters to pass, then stepped out behind them.