Alina pauses 50 metres from the water, listening.
She slowly slides her bow off her back. Her fingers dance over a waiting arrow. A few more snaps sounds behind her. She shuffles behind the cover of a tree’s thick trunk. A small doe steps out from the brush a few metres away. Alina’s fingers grip the arrow, sure and confident. Her breathing levels and the arrow meets its mark. The doe falls to its knees, scrambles back up and starts staggering away. Alina has already caught it up. She looks into its panicked eyes, covers them, and slits its throat.
She wipes her dagger on her pants, holsters it, then binds the doe’s legs with rope from her satchel. Killing is easy. Transporting under cover is the tricky part. If Aidan knew what she was doing, he’d be furious.
Hunt at dusk, when there aren’t as many competitors.
Lachlan could be on his way to her even now, if he had seen the flurry of birds take flight when her arrow hit flesh. The North Clan teaches their training charges to investigate anything suspicious.