Dusk fell upon Bree-land, the fading of daylight and the welcoming of the moonlight... The perfect time to hunt in one hunter's eyes. Kalf gathered his pack, a sheath of arrows and his best hunting hound, Gelert. He set off from his camping site and set out for something to hunt, may it be boar or stag...
He waked through his usual hunting spot, South-East from Bree and kept on walking, staying far from the path... His leather tunic covered in animals fur gave him some camouflage from the creatures of the night... He kept his eyes on Gelert, nose in the air and tail wagging. After a short while from Bree, they came across some flat land, filled with water and the remains of what once was trees. His keen eyes looked across the marsh land, from what he saw there was not much there. He waited until nightfall to move any closer....
As darkness descended he looked across the marsh once more, this time he could see nothing, not even the water that was less than five meters away... A mist has risen on the marsh, making it even more menacing as before... He would have to rely on his ears alone, luckily Gelert was still at his side, once again sniffing the air.. Before long he dashed forwards, swimming across the water to get to another island not far. The water was shallow so he risked to wade across... He entered the bog as quiet as he could, he took a few steps before he was rooted to the ground...
He quickly looked down at where his feet were supposed to be... They have sunk into the mud of the bog... He pulled and pulled but only seemed to be going deeper, he jumped for the shore line but to no avail, his feet were stuck... He whistled for his hound, as quiet as he could, so not to disturb any prey that may be around, he mutters "Come Gelert..." He teased the dog with a drape of boar skin head in his pack, luckily Gelert grabs onto it with his powerful jaw... He pulls and pulls until Kalf is dragged onto the shore, his black hair, covering his face, full of muck... He wipes the mud from his eyes before going onwards...
A low squeal echoes across the marsh, the only squeal that can come from a boar in pain... Kalf lets out a sharp whistle, his hound responds by dashing forwards, towards the noise... As he gets closer he spots something, a male boar trapped in a thicket of thorns. Kalf looks towards his hound before nodding towards the boar, signalling to move closer. Gelert lets out yap after yap after yap.. Making the boar get spooked, entangling himself more in the thorns. Kalf notches an arrow into his bow, he pulls the strong to his cheek and looks down the shaft... The mist making it hard to see, he releases the bowstring as the arrow flies forward, hitting something with a thud....
Kalf curses under his breath as he notches a second arrow, the first one hitting a tree besides the boars head... He pulls back on the bowstring once more and focuses his sight... He releases it and the squealing ceases, the only noise to be heard from the crows and the heavy breathing from Gelert.. He walks to the boar carcass and retrieves his arrows, he pulls the thicket away from the body and hauls it onto his shoulder with a sigh. "Come Gelert, we will eat well tonight..."
The sun rises. The figure of a man rises from a hill.. Blood on his leather tunic, twigs, leaves and muck scattering his beard and hair.. A hound follows at his feet, soaking wet and coated in mud. Their hunt was victorious but it will not be long until they go on their next....
