Katie Vesprin crouched lightly in the underbrush, her bow raised and steady. She calmed her breathing and spoke a silent prayer to whatever god would listen. Unlike most in her village, she didn't worship any specific god, not even the goddess of the hunt which all the other village hunters worshipped. Perhaps it was a foolish mistake, but so far it hadn't proven so. She brought back just as much as the others, and none could pick off moving targets like her.
Her current mark, however, was not moving. The doe looked to be fully grown and Katie imagined the smell of its cooking meat and the coin she might get for its horn. It was a pale branch deer, and though the horn looked like it would snap with ease, she knew from experience it was sturdy and perfect for making wooden tools and such. After all, her bow was partly made from the horn of a male pale branch deer. This doe's branch would mostly be used for handles or maybe even a walking stick.
