The Hunter's Mark

nts tha

ater on his fac

azed intently at his reflection. Sharp eyes, dark and unblinking, peered up at him from the water'

visage, tracing each scar as if reacquainting himself with

ce came unbidden to hi

low the thoughts to simmer when he had nothing else to do. If it p

ear and silence that voice. That sojourning guest that seemed to h

this years in the wild you might have lea

feeling a flicker of de

abit; conversations were now more frequent with that inner voice-when he would temper his pride just enough to indulg

redeeming quality y

ermined to silence the voice. The hunter webbed his long fingers through the matted tangle of drea

s arching and winding together, forming a dense canopy that allowed only dappled sunlight to filter through and ma

iet. And a

oncoction of loose bowels from enemies slain, perspiration and a week's worth

ith a reverence befitting a weapon that saved his life countless times. Next was the cloak worn and frayed from years of use in the

ndifferent flick of the wrist until he knelt bare before the stre

h of his chest mapped with scars that crisscrossed each other, to the welts still tender from burns, bruises now faded a shade darker than his burnished bronze skin. His fingers tentatively pressed on th

t the edge of his consciousness, refusing to be muffled by his audible grunts

by how even your sh

eneath his nails with the edge of his

about impressing?

panse of his torso and legs. He tossed the worn piece aside and rinsed himself thoroughly before reaching for another handful of

g on the edge until bristles came away then passin

etter. Mo

his arm, the hunter made his way throu

ith all his belongings neatly folded and pac

may their souls rest in the abyss - still wrapped in paper. A handful of potatoes and some foreign herbs which h

tprint left in the ashes beside his f

g within the territory permitted. Skewering the meat onto a sturdy branch, the hunter suspended it carefull

agger under the skin of the potato, watching as the brown layer curled around his calloused fingers and fell to the ground. He tossed t

ape of his neck, brows smoothed over in relaxed concentra

bright eyes watching hi

s, the girl stood as still as sto

the meat over to even out the roast. The wafting scent of charred flesh a

ely, nostrils flaring to cat

h an intensity that betrayed both curiosity and trepidation

, leaning over it with the dagger. A lock swayed free from the loose ponytail held togethe

of his hands then the bubbling po

ato

a

ea

a

ato

Steak

a

e. But her eyes never wavered from the man, absorbing every detail, every subtle shift in his posture. A thread of longing thrummed within

s fingers and turned to the piece of roasted meat, expertly carving out a thin slic

his gaze lifted to t

ds much thoroughly. Perhaps they would have had salt on them somewhe

een ravaged to nothing

ovement that sent a ripple of tension through her. Sh

this man. Everything about his skills and the manner in which he carried himself - like a pre

eys of claw marks r

e the fire, he lifted the slab of meat from it and placed it into the bowl. Next was the potatoes. Draining the

mouth. She leaned forward, transfixed, her breathing shallow and g

e swept throu

She felt it faintly as it curled past her hair and nec

, curling up his nostrils as he too

scent-a fragrance neither musky nor wild, not the scent o

hing altoget

e had not kn

muscles, drawing him like the taut string of a bow. His nostrils flared, sifting through the myriads of s

scent just at the thres

ck of his neck prickling as his mind

wed piercing the forest's edge as his hand

a shadow, a figure retreating behi

ted a

n r