Tuktu Weir and these three men made a solemn vow

he nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile at the joke. your strength will only be of help to us, aditya replied. you have a pack—i can smell it on you. it's only myself and my daughter; we won't be able to take much with us on our travels. we'll eat what we can, and the rest you can take to your wolves.

if they were in agreement, aditya would rise, continuing to case the herd. maybe. . . there were a couple of older does, but he feared they might be pregnant. killing one of them would be counterproductive; it meant less deer for the future.

but one was truly decrepit, and he wondered whether her time had passed altogether. thinking grimly of his own likely impotence, adi gave a brief nod at their target and a glance at the man (if he hadn't already positioned himself upwind). then, he lowered himself, beginning to edge toward the herd, trying not to arouse suspicion.

one misstep, one breath too loud, and the whole plan would be spoiled. winter was no time to make foolish mistakes.