He crouched down. His trousers sank into the mud and a slug crawled into his boot. This didn't distract him, He took an arrow and loosely placed it onto his bow. He pulled back this string and waited. A breeze whipped up his cloak and revealed him suddenly to the Orc. The Orc not noticing what was happening just stared at him. He let go and watched the arrow fly straight into the Orc's open mouth.
The others hadn't noticed that one of their group was lying dead. They were too busy drinking and laughing. He hated Orcs they were unhygienic and unforgiving. They killed for fun and gave no mercy. Some people though Orcs were not to be trifled with, he however hunted them and killed them one by one.
He took a chance and crept up behind them. He fitted three arrows to his bow and pulled back. He let go and watched the arrows fly through the woods and into the heads of the three remaining Orcs.
He walked over quickly and silently, as all Rangers do and rumaged through their packs. No it wasn't there where could it be. He lay down quite sudenly and pressed his ear to the floor. He listened, there an Orc had escaped. He got up and hurried of into the night.