The soft sound a feathers as birds to flight, the twang of a bow string, weight crashing down through the tree tops, and a smile, Ava slowly walks over to quarry. She grabbed the pheasant, appraising the kill, it was a good size, but her hunt was not over yet, this was not enough for her Clan.
“Andruil guide me,” Glancing at the pheasant in her hand. “May you find your way to Ghilan’nain.” With that simple prayer she moved on to continue her hunt, moving through the forest like a ghost. Ava knew the area well, she was one of the clan’s hunters, it was her job to know the forest. She always hoped that her clan’s love for her family would grow if she brought back enough from her hunts. So far, this hope had proved to be in vain.
Ava had been born into Clan Lavellan, but her mother was a city elf, and her father had always had, more than a passing interest in the shemlen cities. That was how they met, she thought it romantic, but the rest of the c