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This is it
The Hunters eyes had a luminous glow in the waning moon, as she stepped forth arrow resting quietly on a taunt bow string. Her perfectly oval eyes focussed through the gloomy darkness on a small approaching figure. Slowly she aimed and shot, the arrow went whizzing surely through the air but fell short of the creature, whom, at that very moment it sprinted away under the watching waning moon. Softly she cursed her foolishness and barefooted ran in the other direction in search of prey, head high and legs strong and a smile painted on her red kips. Soon her breath came in gasps as the air went down her raw throat, yet still a smile painted on her lips, eyes dancing she wandered into the depths of the forest that enveloped her in the forever darkness that it held. Her glowing eyes soon found what they were looking for, a herd of deer at the waters edge. The moon every now and again peeked out among the layers of cloud like a small hiding child peaking out from beneath the covers. She crouched down slowly in the moon-warmed folds of nature not once taking her perfectly shaped green eyes off of the prize. There they were, all lined up at the waters edge drinking the fresh water that came from the mountains high up. One of the doe’s ears flickered slightly as it lifted its head up eyeing her hiding place. She held her breathe waiting silently in the green plants that enveloped her. It bent its head back down just as the moon peeked out again. Warm relief spread over her as she took a long reassuring and calming breath, telling herself not to worry. She yet again stepped forth, taking care not to rustle the bushes, arrow resting quietly on the taint bow string. This is it. She aims a shot that cannot be missed even in the forever darkness that enveloped it. The arrow as if slow motion glided through the air elegantly like a swan flying, seeking refuge in a lake in the middle of nowhere. It hit target – or did it? Smoke filled the moonlit clearing; it was too late to tell whether or not the target was reached for the herd had already run away from the unfamiliar environment. The hunter closed her eyes, hand gripping at her belt frantically looking for a small dagger. She found it; her long pale bony fingers gripped the handle hard turning her knuckles white with effort. ‘Is this it?’ she asks herself not daring to think of what she was leaving behind. She gathers up the remains of her courage and takes a deep breath through her nose. The smoke, smelling of none other than lake water proved no large danger to her at this moment. Sensing an unwanted presence she opens her eyes drawing the dagger from its resting place. There were two men, smirking at her uncontrollably; they both had pale complexions and dark serious eyes. She felt another presence behind her but not before it was too late. The cold hard edge of the blade pressed into her warm neck as she was grabbed from behind by yet another man. The two in front of her, whom now were having a difficult time keeping their laughter in, walked up towards her and the third man; they looked her up and down. Her roughly sewn leather dress and lack of equipment even on a hunting trip was nothing compared to their smart clothes and their range of weaponry. She tried to struggle but only managed to get cut by the sharpened edge of the blade that was still situated near her neck. An anonymous sound stopped her struggling and rouses the men out of their silent conversations. They all looked to the left, the man drops his weapon in surprise; this is it. She ran for it, through the trees not caring as their long branches for arms scratched her from head to toe, she ran until her breath came in puffs and her muscles screamed in protest. Soon, but not soon enough her bare feet softly padded to a stop but the reaching shadows of death were all too near. She started again running not caring that she was being followed but then her legs as if commanded dropped her. She rolled down a hill only stopping when she came into contact with a large oak tree. Nature was like a blanket over her, the tree barely wounded her apart from the large bruise that was already forming around her middle. A sigh escaped those red lips, what is wrong with this image? Her mind screams for her to get up but she remains down, resting in the forever peaceful, forever dark forest. Her eyes fluttered shut as she was slowly losing consciousness her blood red hair fanned out behind her. But then a foul smell hit her nose, she opened her eyes to stare into the honey coloured eyes of a wolf. Rain drops started to fall softer than that of a mourning rose. She not moving averted her eyes to stare up in wonder as the tears of the forest fell gently on her pale face. Her hand, still gripping the dagger made its last attempt at fight, it slowly rouse towards the wolf whom at that very moment ….. This is it ….
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Favorite Quote:
'Giving up doesn't always mean your weak. Sometimes it just means your strong enough to let go.'