Do you know what it feels like to be firmly enveloped in a never-ending sense of dark, venomous, Stygian numbness? Or a delirium hysteria etched so deeply into your soul that you lost knowledge of where it even belongs? Or the agonizing ache you ex...
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The cold, white snow crunched under my long leather boots, my steps a whispering echo along the dark nothingness ahead of me. The quiver felt heavy on my back, my wooden arrows sticking out in many directions and my bow clenched tightly in my freezing hand. I have been walking around in circles, trying to find any kind of animal. The woods near Pryacre were absolutely deserted, with no signs of any life or movement. I couldn't go home without any prey, especially in winter, when food and resources were scarce; when famine hit the Wyvernbush Village.
Without warning, I hear a quiet rustle and the flap of powerful wings, coming from the tall trees nearby. I act on impulse, drawing back the bowstring instinctively. The arrow was slightly slippery as I had coated it in goose-fat to protect it from moisture. The air was brutal, biting harshly on my face as I let out a shallow breath. There were three South Polar Skua's, each sitting motionlessly on a branch, which was blanketed generously with snow. This was rare, as they never lingered around for long in the woods, especially in Pryacre. I aim at the largest one, one eye closing momentarily and my bow string pulled back tightly against my cheek. I shoot, the lack of wind making it easier as the arrow swiftly glides through the air, piercing it effortlessly. Without thinking I reach out for the second arrow, and it's flying through the air before I can react. The birds fall to the ground, wings thrashing, desperately trying to escape from their tragic future. I walk quickly, not wanting the strong scent of fresh metallic blood to spread. I remove the arrows, wiping them with a long black stained fabric, then rubbing slightly with some clean snow. I then put them back into the quiver. I was now crouching down on the ground, wrapping the largest bird, then the other two followed suit. Using the largest piece of cotton, I place it on the ground, putting the birds in the middle, then tying it all together to form one large bag, then grabbing it tightly using both hands.
The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping at a rapid pace, the wind now picking up speed, sending my dark braids flying in the snowy blizzard. I have to leave now, thus, Edmond will not be pleased with the amount I had harvested. My surroundings were already significantly darker, so I forced my legs to move faster, producing longer strides. I dodge branches and small plants, that despite the weather being so frigid and numbing were twisting around the wood, weaving and intertwining. The night was a dangerous and threatening place in Aldedge, as ruthless creatures roamed without complications and the darkness belonged solely to them. I could already see the luminous gates in the far distance, with torches lit above, illuminating everything around.
