Hunter

I sling the roughly carved oak bow over my shoulder, my pale fingers tightening the belt around my waist. Quickly, I pull on a pair of leather boots and feel their familiar tread against my feet. My family have eaten nothing but wild berries in a week and I am almost certain Cara can't hold out much longer. She's only 9 years old and has already collapsed from hunger twice. Luther hasn't been of any help, either, and I'm tempted to skin him- all day long, just sitting by the fire, waiting for me to bring home some sort of a banquet. He has the appetite of a bore and is the worst hunter I've ever seen- and even though he's been starved for just as long, he's at least twice as heavy as I am and couldn't climb a tree to save his life. Sighing, I take my quiver from the frosted grass and strap it over my back, letting the stream of icy water flow down over my shoulders. The sun is just visible over the horizon and I can make out flecks of gold on the treetops, telling me that dawn is near. I tighten the worn coat around my shoulders and pull the cap down even tighter over my head. I shiver as a raven cries out in the distance, feeling my heart thud against my ribs and make my way towards the woods.