Stone Circle with purple fountains issuing from his veins

Day gazed out into the field on her command, feeling halfway between irritated and amused. He'd led a lot of hunt in his lifetime, and it was strange to have someone trying to instruct him after all these years. In his youth, he'd learned to target the weakest prey for his hunting parties, and how to make decisions on the fly. He'd learned to track and to trap, how to lunge and how to hang on, and when it was more prudent to let go.

But Valette didn't know that; he'd kept to himself more than he knew.

"Hmmm..." he said aloud, eyes scanning over the distant pinpricks of shadow. In hunting, the one fault that he would allow himself was this; he could no longer see things so far away. One of the shadows did appear to be moving more awkwardly than the rest, but it could've been a trick of the light. It could've been anything. "Why don't you pick?" he suggested. "I won't be able to see them clearly unless we get closer, and I don't think we want to startle 'em just yet."

Looking straight ahead, so that he could not see the look on her face (he didn't want to know if she pitied him), he waited for her to pick their mark.