“Do you know what I feel is perhaps the most terrible thing?”
“Ma’am?”
“The...triviality of it all. People are to be found dead twice a day it seems, until one is simply grown accustomed to it. Thus death becomes commonplace, where it should be utterly abhorrent. Even the death of a werewolf should, really, be cause for some pity, for sadness that it must come to such a thing. But rather we have a town of bloodthirsty killers, desensitised to it all.”
“It is, I suppose, an unfortunate point of any such circumstance... including wars, of course, so that soldiers may be rather expected to succumb to such an effect. Efficiency and lack of emotion are required to increase the chances of surviving oneself, and to do one’s duty.”
“I know, I understand the reasoning, but it still seems to me to be a terrible thing. Anyway, what reports do we have of the next night?”
“Erm... very little, ma’am. A man died as usual, but he was not considered particularly significant, so little mention was made of him.”
“A name, at least?”
“He is referred to as ‘The Ranger’, and by that only once.”

Summary: The Bushranger was killed. He was a Villager.
Day 14 begins now and ends in approximately 48 hours.
At risk of autolynch:
Griever
Odd Fielding
billtodamax