A Hunt in Uncharted Woods
Siward was tracking a stage all morning, his game not being too far ahead. A thin layer of sweat gathered on his brow despite the cold as his eyes searched he forest for tracks quickly and thoroughly, instead though, he was greeted be the sight of the stag. He pulled his bow taunt with easy and kept a steady aim for the target. Right as he was about to exhale to take the shot, a twig snapped to his left and in a matter of milliseconds, he had his aim trained on the source of the sound.












