A faint, greyish-pink light hovered over the canopy of the forest. The eastern hills were kissed with it; a gentle promise of the approaching dawn. Beneath the towering, ancient trees, however, shadow still held sway, and all was nearly dark as midnight. Still, the earth and its inhabitants could feel the morning approaching, in the sweet chill of the air, the coolest the wood would be before the sun rose again. Birds twittered sleepily in their nests, fluffed feathers protecting newly laid eggs. Squirrels crept out from their hollows, their tiny claws scratching over the rough trunks of the trees.
Against the forest floor, a shadow crouched, unmoving and all but invisible against the width of an old oak. A bow and arrow, rough-carved but sturdy and skillfully crafted, were in her hands. Her eyes bored through the grey mists lingering over the earth. Watching a second shadow that moved, just a stone's throw away. Every sound was registered within her mind; the fluttering bird, the squirrel digging in the leaf litter, the lofty wind as it tugged at the boughs overhead. The air was scented with life; the green smell of growing things, the faint sweetness of budding wildflowers. She did not relish the thought of breaking the silvan peace of the scene. Yet, in order for other lives to continue, sacrifices had to be made.
Without a sound, the bow was raised, and the string drew taut. Her half-gloved fingers pulled back, hovering beside her cheek, and her eyes gazed along the slender length of the arrow. Flicking the tiniest inch to examine her prey, studying the way it stood, the way the muscles shifted and its feet adjusted. Feeling its breathing. Envisioning the sinew beneath its skin, the blood pulsing through arteries. Her breath was held briefly, and her fingers calmly and quickly loosed the arrow. The string twanged, the wooden bow bouncing in her grip.
She was rising to her feet before the arrow struck its mark, knowing that her aim had been true. With a sudden rush, the dreamy quiet of the wood was shattered. The stag gave a sharp snort of pain and alarm, and launched itself into the shadows with a fierce spurning of leaf litter beneath its hooves. Birds exploded from the brush, a squirrel barked angrily, and Narys darted after her quarry.
The deer was vastly more swift than she, and soon left her in his wake, though she was able to follow the sounds of snapping twigs and heavy footfalls even after it was out of sight. The arrow had struck home, of that she was certain, and death would not be far off, though a frightened animal could still sprint and weave a trail that was infuriatingly difficult to follow before succumbing to its wounds.
The light beneath the boughs grew lighter, little by little. Now, instead of near blackness, the air was a sort of gritty, greyish hue, and the mists thickened as she trotted along. Occasional grunts of pain were interjected between breaths, and her free hand pressed against the swell of her right hip. Her steps slowed for a moment, and she leaned over onto her knees, though her eyes and ears were forever alert, swiveling side to side. A dark splash lay on an exposed tree root a few steps away. The stag would be nearby.
Stepping more carefully, watching and listening for any sign of her fallen prey, she snuffed the air with long, slow breaths. Expecting the pungent, iron-like tinge of blood, or the sharp musk of loosened bowels, she was caught off guard by an entirely different odor. A scent of acrid smoke, though it was faint and distant. This was nothing alarming in and of itself, for many hunters and travelers were known to make camp in the forest now and again, just as she did. But the memory of the men she had encountered not a week prior was fresh in her mind.
She stood quietly for a time, facing the wind, ascertaining the direction from which the burning smell came. Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she whisked her hunting knife from its sheath with a sharp, metallic ring. Her gaze lingered over her shoulder as she began walking again. The deer needed to be bled and quartered first.
Then she would return to seek the source of the fire.
