A shadow, less material than a ghost, moved swiftly through the densely packed forest. Pine needles softened foot falls as soft hands held a bow made from maple and holly. A string, dried and cured from the intestines of an elk tied the top and bottom notches together. Red eyes peered out at the silent forest. A short girl, barely 17, dodged between trees. A leather jacket covered a light brown shirt as thick pants adorned her lower body. Fur-lined boots ran up her ankles, wrinkling the ends of her pants.

Finn's stomach growled in the rapidly diminishing sunlight. Damn, she was hungry. The girl hadn't eaten in the past three days. Cursing her luck, and cursing the bastard she was hunting down, Finn took a deep breath. Then she heard it. A snuffling off in the distance. To her left, nearly fifty yards, a deer? No, a moose, foraged in the damp pine straw. Her eyes snapped open, cold hunger apparent in their depths. Moving, she hunted, cold wind blowing against her pale ears.

Slowing, she saw her prey. It was large, easily able to feed a family of five for a week. However, Finn was a greedy women. A hilariously hungry smile crept over her face as her stomach threatened to growl once more. Raising her bow, Finn took aim. Her fingers came back to the corner of her mouth as her left arm, holding the bow, bent ever so slightly. Release. Wind. The arrow flew as the string of the bow snapped back and forth. Striking true, the arrow sunk deep into the moose's side. 

What she didn't realize though, was that someone else had shot the moose. ANother arrow stuck out from the beast's side, opposite and mirrored to Finn's own.