OOc:Personal note: A week or so after Nuata and Njal talk. And a few days more since Nuata and @Haunter met.
Sport was hard to come by in the mountains. Too few game dared scale the rocky faces in fear of faltering in step and plummeting. It was an apprehension any sensible creature had especially towards the end of winter, when the surfaces were slick and the ice was melting away upon the glancing warmth of spring. But there were some choice fodder that braved the dangers none the less, and it was these brave souls that she longed for to make a game possible.
It was not wholly a game, but a task to undertake. As part of her duty to the Vale, it was her turn to hunt and bring back the spoils of her success that others may feast. Her own belly was full, making the task somewhat manageable without the distraction of her own hunger, but there would always the lust for flesh meat not completely stifled. She would simply have to do her best not to let it distract her.
A brave soul indeed had taken step over the mountain ridge, no doubt bounding along on dexterous toes hoping that his tracks would not be easy to follow. But the hunter knew the grounds like her own, the different scents of the mountain. The musk of a lone ram was not difficult to follow. Perhaps a young soul, considering a seasoned elder would have known better. Though young ones were sneaky, always appearing suddenly then dancing away again. It was the ideal sport and prize for a hunter. One she had every intention of claiming as her own, and as she crept within the deeper shadows of the mountain’s ledge, she felt her anticipating growing. |