Roman grinned wildly at Alianor. He soon assembled the hunting party, including Huxley - who was a far better shot than his paunch might suggest - and a number of bandits Alianor had yet to find out the names of. Making sure that his captive was near the front of the group, just in case adrenaline got the better of her and she decided to take pot shots at him or his men, They set off through the gates.

Ronan was a good hunter. He knew how to read the animal trails: the soft paw prints left by wolves navigating the twisting paths that led through the undergrowth, as well as the tufts of hair caught on thick thorny bushes scattered along the edges of the trails. The hunt went reasonably well overall, Ronan bagging a rabbit which had the misfortune to wander by their party. He was disappointed with Alianor however... He had assumed that once she was out in the wood, even if she was forced to be there, she would get involved with the activity at hand. The woman wasn't even drawing her bowstring. Eventually he decided to make the test more direct.

He spotted something through the trees, and quickly loosed an arrow at it, hitting the in distinct beast with a satisfying thus in its neck. The bandits rushed over to look, and found a deer lying in the mud with the long arrow in its throat. It was dying, clearly: struggling for breath. He took a knife from his belt, then handed it to Alianor with a small smile.

[b]"New girl gets the kill. Put the poor doe out of its misery, won't you? It'll thank you."[/b] Ronan said sweetly. Now, he thought, Alianor would have to take matters into her own hands. Today, he thought, was the first day of a new life.