Hache walked down the path he had cut into the old town that he lived in for so long, a large boar and a elk that he had managed to catch with the small animals he had come out to catch all on a long wooden sled like platform. His arms were sore from falls he had taken earlier but the hunter never quit being ready to skin and gut his meals. Despite qurrals with the rival village who's people he encountered every now and then in the forest but refused to dispatch of the boy's life was fine, perfect if he could say so himself. Now getting home hache lite a candle to his small shack, having little to no one to come to his house it had become a wreck/ "I guess I should clean up if I don't want dust on the meat" the boy said with a sigh.