He was a gaunt man of about forty-one. He had a scraggly beard and long hair that hadn’t been cut, combed, or washed, probably for a solid week. A gash ran across his hollow cheeks brought about, not from an animal, but a conflict with man. For this was not any ordinary hunter. He was no wealthy lord, killing the king’s deer for sport, nor was he a hunter by hobby. He was a folk hero to the little hamlet he lived in. Every day they could go about their business knowing that they’d eat deer, rabbit, or even pheasant on occasion. Even folks from the surrounding cities had heard that he could hit a running rabbit at 100 meters. This part was exaggerated, of course, and most knew that.
As he strode through the long, dying grass that day, he thought of what he might catch. Deer, pigeon, pheasant, all were possible for him. He surveyed the area around him. He hadn’t often noticed the surrounding area, but today he took a look. In the distance, to the east, a small expanse of water could be seen, and by it a small wooden fishing hut lay in the mud, parts of it rotted to the core. As the darkness loomed overhead, a distant figure could be seen entering the hut carrying three fish on string draped around his neck like a scarf. Past the small hut, on the other side of the bank was a great expanse of trees expanding up to Mount Himmel. Past that, the Riviera, the largest river in all the lands. Then, the low lands where nomadic traders, warriors and adventures wandered carrying their lives in bundles as they ventured from distant lands.
To the west a small windmill churned slowly, crushing grain to be made into bread. Beside it were around twenty small houses. That and the fishing hut made up the village of Lods Post. The man, who strode through the grass that day on his way to the dark forests, was originally from Lod’s Post. It was a dreadful town of vengeful neighbors who distrusted each other almost as much as they hated outsiders. If it hadn’t been for their isolationism, there probably wouldn’t have been that windmill or the fishing hut. Past Lod’s Post one could see a distant castle which carried the banner of Brightwall. It was a commonly held belief that without the watchful eyes of the lord commander, Jaque Denou, the area would’ve been taken by Hanlan, the half breed. However the garrison’s job seemed to mainly be get drunk and occasionally steal the locals’ pigs.
As Sebastian strode through the grass, he passed over a small dirt road leading from the fisherman’s hut to the castle. On the other side were the woods. They expanded until the ground gave way to water. Few from his hamlet had ventured past the first mile. In the woods, there was a small clearing where a small spring provided water for the local wildlife. As he closed in on the trees, he noticed that an elk was grazing on tall grass outside the forests entrance. If Sebastian had been a superstitious man, he would’ve left. For it’s said that elk only leave the farwoods if danger is near. However Sebastian continued into the forest. As he entered the forest, a cool breeze escorted a soft drizzle of rain.
Sebastian continued into the strangely quiet forest. He had only a thin tan coat to separate himself from the drizzle, though it was enough. He crossed through the forest on a path he’d taken many times, until he arrived at a small overlook. He hid himself beneath the long tall grass and waited.
The hours were silent and dull. Nothing appeared, not even a startled bird frightened by some far off sound. Nothing appeared for hours and hours still. It was at that moment that a large silver buck appeared. It had an almost ethereal presence, but still seemed grounded in this world. It stepped over to the pond below Sebastian and dipped its mouth into the pond. Once Sebastian saw the beautiful creature, he knew that he’d need to catch it.
He drew an arrow adorned at the end with blue feathers and a barbed tip. It was made of a fine, dark brown wood. He stood silently, and drew the longbow, pulling the string back to his ear. However, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t bring himself to fire the arrow. It wasn’t that he thought he would miss, merely that he was so awestruck by this beautiful creature. He eventually did fire, but, subconsciously, tried to miss.
So he marched back to his hamlet, as it had grown late, for the first time in years empty handed. As he entered the hamlet, a friend of his, Jaun, ran out to greet him.
“Sebastian, where’s the meat?” he asked confused.
“I couldn’t find any... The forest was quiet today,” he answered.
“What are we to do?” Jaun pleaded.
“I suppose we’ll have to buy some fish from Lod’s post,” he said, sounding disappointed.
“Very well... why don’t you try another spot tomorrow?” he asked
Sebastian agreed to this and would soon join the others in eating poorly cooked fish.
The next day Sebastian strode to the forest eager to prove himself. He entered the forest and this time took a less traveled path. However when he arrived this time, he saw a pure white baby deer. However Sebastian couldn’t come back empty handed, so he notched this time a tan arrow escorted by bright red plumage. He drew it back to his ear and aimed. He fired, but part of him still tried to stop himself from hitting the poor creature. His arrow flew past, hitting the deer in the ear, and lodging itself into a nearby tree. However, the creature had escaped with only a notch of its ear missing. It ran in the same direction the other had. Sebastian lied in wait for anything else, but eventually left once again empty handed.
When he’d arrived again at the hamlet, they were upset at him for returning with noe game. However they had gotten better at cooking fish.
Sebastian left the next day. He did not stride to the forest. His arrows were not decorated with bright blues or reds. He merely carried his bow and one arrow. The arrow was made from almost completely black wood with the feathers of ravens attached at the back. As he closed on the forest, he walked to the same place as he had the first time. He snuck to the top of the small hill and lied down on his stomach. As he did this, an elk walked out. It wasn’t special compared to the others. Its fur was slightly lighter than the usual brown of all the other elks, but it acted strangely. Instead of drinking, it merely stood there making odd sounds and looking around frantically. Sebastian notched the arrow and pulled it back. The deer looked around more frantically. Sebastian stood as the elk turned to run, and released his hold on the arrow. It flew towards the elk hitting it in the side.
The pitiable figure wailed as it fell onto the tall grass. As it wailed, from a small path the two first deer emerged. Sebastian quickly ran back to his house, as he had forgot to bring his knife. However when he’d returned with five new arrows and his knife, he found that the deer and elk had gone.
He noticed that there were fresh foot prints going down the path. As he followed them, he eventually found himself in a large clearing. In the center was a single house. It was fairly small with a thatched roof. From inside a crying sound could be heard.
He walked over to the house and knocked three times on the door.
From within he heard gruff voice shout, “I’ll be out in a minute!”
A few seconds later a man emerged. He stood slightly taller than Sebastian with long hair blond and a braided beard.
“How can I help you, sir?” the man asked glumly.
“Good day, sir, I am merely a hunter, and I was passing by, and I wondered if you’d seen any deer,” said Sebastian.
“Sir I don’t care, there ain’t been a deer around here since we moved in a few days ago,” he said, “and furthermo-”
Sebastian interrupted him, “Pardon me, sir, but you said ‘no deer’ correct?”
The man nodded.
“Well, sir,” Sebastian continued, “you and I must have very different ideas of what ‘no deer’ refers to. Over the last few days I’ve seen several de-” he stopped himself as he saw behind the man a little girl.
She looked a lot like the man who stood before him but with slightly darker hair. That didn’t surprise him, but what did surprise him was that a clutter of linen covered the area of the ear. 
“Papa... Mama’s stopped talking,” the child mumbled, looking at Sebastian frightened.
The man turned around, and ran back into his small house.
Sebastian murmured, “M- may I come in?”
The child nodded and Sebastian walked in. The house seemed very cozy. In the center a soup sat over a fire. It was surrounded by four wood benches. In the corner, a shelf sat holding various foods. Hanging over the door to the bedroom was a decorative green shield with a gold stripe down the center with an axe next to one of the benches.
The door hung loosely open underneath the green and gold shield. Sebastian walked to it. He pushed it open. Inside was a small bedroom, with one bed on either side. In between was a chest. Sitting in the bed to the right, not moving, was an elk. However when Sebastian blinked, and looked again, a woman with dark hair lay, dying in the bed.
“The bandages aren’t holding well enough, I’ll have to get help,” the man said getting up and running past Sebastian.
Sebastian stood for sometime, just watching the dying woman. He stooped over and picked up his arrow. He then ran. He was never seen again after that day. Some say he sailed southwest, to the lawless lands where armies of murders, thieves, and deserters vie for control of the last remaining sources of water, in an arid dust bowl. Others say he sailed east, to an unmapped island where he spent the rest of his days hunting rare animals. However the true ending of Mr. Hollis’ story is unknown, and today he’s all but forgotten.