[center][h1][i]When trying to ‘see the forest for the trees,’ you can’t see the forest when completely lost in the thick of it.[/i][/h1][/center]

[hr]

	The days cooped up in the carriage hadn’t done wonders for the fitness of the hunter but, with the fresh air beginning to whip across his face and the scent of wild flowers swirling, Marcus felt alive in a way he hadn’t done so for a very long time. Trapped in the spires and towers of the bigger cities where clouds of smog choked the heart and soul of folk. Out here, amidst the wilds and nature that still hadn’t been corrupted by the Hierarchy there was an energy. The blood pumped gently as he fell into a steady rhythm jogging towards the winding trunks of the trees that rose before him. Stories suggested that eyes would constantly be watching him from under dark, shadowy boughs but he couldn’t see them. Either they were very good or they weren’t actually there.

	Deeper and deeper Marcus ran, finding the latter explanation of no creatures to be ever more convincing. Strange, he reasoned, as the patchwork of trees was broken by the rutted and worn dirt tracks left by beasts. These made the journey somewhat easier. The thick jacket and hunting equipment protected him from whipping branches and long tangles of nettles that tried to rake his skin. Despite this he still struggled, however. He didn’t know the routes and paths of the forest and with his head lowered to the ground to try and follow any path that he might find, he wasn’t paying attention to obstructions ahead. He collided with trees more times than he cared to count and was just glad that none of the other hunters were around to see it.

	Finally, he came to a small clearing and chuckled to himself. A tear of clothing was caught on the branches of some thorns and seemed to show faint prints leading towards one of the animal tracks. It made sense, he reasoned, that the witch would make for a quicker route and it meant he’d be able to avoid the worse of the rough foliage. The plan seemed so perfect, until the wrist companion chimed over and over to indicate a drone had found something. Loading the small camera feed, a little shaky image displayed a woman breaking from the cover of the forest and onto a field. The locator pinged a direction vastly different to the one the tracks led and he swore. He hated tricksy prey, they almost always weren’t worth the bounty they warranted. Still, he had a job to complete and dove back into the thickets and bracken. 

	The ping of the drone was the guidance he needed until it was gone. A loud boom not too far ahead coincided with the loss of the drone. Confused, he paused briefly to inspect the feed and noted the hand signal that preceded static. The witch was also dangerous, it seemed, and Marcus cursed the contract once more. She knew she had been spotted, now he needed to up the tempo and close the distance. Luckily, a hunt was everything he had trained for and his physical fitness was the strongest asset he had, next to some technological gadgetry. When the edge of the forest came into view sweat ran down the forehead of the hunter in thick beads and his hair stuck back against his skin. Blood pumped loudly in his ears but he knew he could, and would have to, go further yet. Breaking cover he stood on the edge of the field he had seen before and scanned the near distance.

	It took two sweeps before he spotted the moving form of a figure ahead of him. She was close, but still so far away, and there was bound to be further tricks yet. He had to slow her down somehow. Initially, he broke back into a run. He couldn’t allow any further distance to be built between them. Secondly, he typed in a command to the two remaining drones to circle in on his position so he could dispatch them to monitor the witch from a distance he reckoned was safe. He knew if she made it to another patch of cover like a forest again he’d find everything more difficult and he wanted to head her off before she could make for the… the RamRails. Lines of them weren’t too far on the other side of the field and if she made it onto a rail he couldn’t do anything to stop her.

	He didn’t have a rifle, he didn’t have a partner, he didn’t even have a friend in the tracks that might tell him the destination of the Rails she jumped on. He did have some explosives. Not much good for throwing from here but he had a few things that were faster. Reaching down he deposited two microgrenades into his palm and set the charges to detonate on impact. A drone was summoned a moment later and typing in further commands, he set it a single task. To fly up, over, and ahead of the target to drop the grenades. It was his hope the explosions would divert the witch off her trajectory enough that he could close the distance to within shouting distance.