A good hunter holds only their prey in mind. A great hunter sits back and lets good hunters work.
Bruxa halted her horse and read the nature around her for signs of her quarry. She heard movement ahead and edged forward stealthily.
Through the brambles and foliage, she could see the corrupted beast ripping into an old meal on the ground. She could not see a clear path from her position but visualised her hunting party nearby.
Playing out the scenario, she nodded to herself and blew her horn, shattering the silence in the forest. Even as the beast rose to spring away, her hunting party descended upon it with a barrage of arrows and magic.
Bruxa relaxed her shoulders and patted her horse. She’d been worried she might break a sweat.
