H E X U S

Not so many men made it back alive. Lesser with a limb or two that was torn off in the struggle. With dainty fingertips, the hunter took the bow's string into her finger's hold, confirming before pulling it back slowly and keeping her aim steady on the selected prey.

Her pointer and middle finger are set precisely in the right position, hooking the string. Addie's cheek lightly pressed against the bow's sight window. The metal felt cool against her cheek.

The young woman's other hand by now gripping the bear's fur that delicately wove around the bow's handle. Addie's almond-colored hues fixed upon the still target; an elderly male caribou grazing within a few yards of reach.

The bull's muzzle was too focused on being buried within the snow, grazing on the scrapes of vulnerable birch tree roots.

The dark navy-blue cloak of her almost shifted from its placement at her sides from the gust of chilling winds, though the hunter grew eager in freeing her arrow.

Addie knew better rather than to send to her childish urges -- the ancient caribou would flee...