A spear flew through the air, piercing an eagle-like gigantic bird right through its chest. The wounded bird, unable to fly for much longer, crashed into the sides of the mountains, then fell to the very bottom. At the very end, all that could be seen was not even a dust cloud, but the cold blizzard consuming the beast's corpse.
"Fren, you fool!" A man yelled out from behind the gifted spear-thrower. Fren turned around and grinned, replying:
"The spear goes wherever the damn it wants. It is not up to me to control it."
Fren was a man who lived for the hunt. He had been raised in the mountains since birth, and lived for the thrill of the kill. The man behind him that was scolding him was his father, Born. Their family had split off from a nearby tribe some generations ago and had been living in the mountains ever since.
