"The early morning was brisk, the air was soaked in fog. Slowly elf crapt forward from the brush, her eyes hidden behind her hood. Ears perked back, listening, gently sliding the arm along the knock string. Her mouth ever so slightly agape as her full lips parted, a thin string of saliva snapping from betwix them. The slight crack of dead leaves came to her ears as the doe moved before her, not ten feet away, totally unaware that it was prey. The whistle of an arrow piercing air at speeds most men could only dream of, came to a sudden end, as did the doe's life. The Elf would eat hardy tonight..."