Closed When Night Falls (Terror)

[Slaughter]

54th of Spring, 21st Bell, 515AV The Outskirts, West The sun had only recently set, and if one were to look to the west one might yet see the last pink rays of the bright orb slowly recede below the horizon. Slaughter was not looking to the western horizon, however. Instead, he was looking down at the forest floor and keeping his eyes open for any signs of movement, any signs of game. He was hungry, had been since before the sun went down when his stomach was reminding him that he had spent most of the previous night traveling, and he wanted food - now. Crouched on a branch, kept safe by the shadows cast by the canopy, Slaughter held his bow nocked and ready while his eyes scanned left and right along the cleared space before him. The darkness of the night posed no problem to the eyes of a Zith, so he could see every fallen leaf and stick that littered the ground. There was no wind, at least not at this time of the night, so the bushes were relatively still. It would be easy to notice any creature trying to sneak through, and Slaughter was experienced enough to know how to handle the shifty ones. At the present moment everything sat still, as if the woods were waiting for the Zith to make a move than the other way around. Memories began to arise to distract Slaughter, but fortunately he was saved from reminiscing about Kalea when a wild pig emerged from the foliage below. It was smaller than the Kalean boars, but it would do. Regulating his breathing, Slaughter leveled his bow at the animal on the forest floor. Holding it parallel to the ground, he drew back the arrow he had notched and brought the quill about to his ear. The bowstring made a very slight sound, but it did not even carry all the way to the forest floor. Down below, the pig was nosing about in the grass, perhaps looking for some still water to drink from. The ground was littered with puddles due to recent storms Slaughter had noticed, so it took not long at all for the pig to find a small drinking pool for it to stick its mouth in. Now was an opportune time. With the already arrow drawn, Slaughter took his time lining up the shot with his prey. Even if he missed his exact target by an inch or two, it would make no difference. Anywhere in the skull would do. Slaughter took another moment to aim, then fired.