Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 14, 2009 2:13:14 GMT
Richard was crouched, an arrow nocked in his bow but he did not pull back the string. Not yet. Branches rustled around him and the birds that did not leave in winter whispered to each other. Richard's breath was a white fog before him. A couple of deer were chewing on bark. Stripping it for what little food it had.
In a single motion, he raised the arrow, drew the string back and fired. Something must have alerted the deer a moment too soon however because they were already scampering, one earning an arrow in the hindquarters. Richard cursed as it stumbled from the clearing. He hated it when his kill was not clean. The bow he slung over his back and then he was running, leaping up after the deer before something else got his meat.
In a single motion, he raised the arrow, drew the string back and fired. Something must have alerted the deer a moment too soon however because they were already scampering, one earning an arrow in the hindquarters. Richard cursed as it stumbled from the clearing. He hated it when his kill was not clean. The bow he slung over his back and then he was running, leaping up after the deer before something else got his meat.
