There she stood, pawing at the frozen ground in an attempt to find some grass to chew. Her herd not but ten feet from her, doing the same. Ioar situated himself, the arrow notched and readied as he sat and watched as a fawn walked up to her slowly. She carefully nuzzled her still spotted baby, returning to the cold, hardened ground in search of food. The animals had to learn to survive the cold lands of Forochel, and sometimes food was scarce, even for the Lossoth.
"I am sorry, I kill not for pride or fun. I take your life so that I may feed my family and village. I will not take your child from you, but know that your sacrifice is not in vane.." He prayed quietly in his tongue. She turned her head for but a moment, and that was all he needed.
The man cleaned the blade of his knife upon the old cloth before stuffing it back into waist of his pants. The remains of the beast neatly cut and dressed, readied to be prepared for drying and cooking as he carried it along a wrap of treated skins. Ioar looked to the sky with a sorrowful smile and nodded. "Thank you, father of all. My last test, is passed."
