xi. Hunter, Hunted.

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‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♡ ༻ ‿̩͙‿



During the first two days of the hunt, (Name) simply observed.

The forest seemed to pulse with life around her - unnoticed creatures crinkling in the bushes, leaves whispering secrets in the gentle breeze. With her keen senses, she could detect the subtle shifts around her, attuning herself to the course of the natural world.

Her target, Siper, remained untouchable. The woman's presence was like a fleeting ghost, a whisper in the wind that left only faint traces of her passing. (Name) could see it, a mere string of aura that followed the woman. But she needed a plan.

Following the woman head-first would be reckless, especially if she was a sniper. Shooting a witch when she was in the sky was a synonym for hunting birds for sport, quite literally. She acknowledged that rushing would lead to mishaps, so she fixated on mentally cataloging the forest's patterns and waiting for an opportunity.

The first signs of hunger began to assert themselves during the evening of the second day. Waves of nausea washed over her, occasionally causing her to double over in discomfort. She instinctively curled into a fetal position, seeking solace in the only posture that seemed to alleviate the ache.

The trees that surrounded her, though magnificent, bore no fruits for her to gather. Her thoughts turned to the small birds that occasionally visited, curious about her presence on the branch. A hint of distaste twisted her expression as she contemplated the notion of capturing those delicate creatures for nourishment. The grim prospect of ending a life for her survival weighed heavily on her conscience.

She made a mental decision to look for food the following morning.

As the sun began to set, the forest's inhabitants became less timid. Curious creatures peered out from their hiding places, lured to her soothing aura. A brightly colored bird with dazzling plumage settled on her knee, its lovely voice blending nicely with the rustling trees.

(Name) slanted her head to the side, gazing out, "It's quiet. I wonder where everyone else is."

The little bird tweeted in response, its feet pattering against her clothed knee as though it sought to answer her somehow. The winged animal seemed to look at her with a strange adoration, though (Name) could not exactly tell why.

When she eventually looked at the bird, she found that it did not come alone, as a collection of its brethren had congregated on a nearby branch, their vibrant plumage creating a lively mosaic of colors. Simultaneously, a handful of charming squirrels busied themselves inspecting her shoes, sniffing the soles and the thights that peeked through.

(Name) hummed as a lightbulb lighted up in her head. She swiftly removed her flower-looking hat, revealing the concealed pockets that held her prized number badge. Retrieving her plastic tag, she held it up for the small audience before her.

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