An arrow flashed by and rattled through the underbrush, narrowly missing a hare and startling it. It bolted off through the snow and disappeared safely from Joseph’s view. He cursed his aim as he walked off to search for his arrow. Ammunition was precious or here, and he could little afford to throw away arrows for nothing. After looking for a few minutes, he recovered his black-feathered arrow and resumed the hunt. His eyes had adjusted to the blinding snow, but spotting a white hare against the white snow was still almost impossible.

Sun reflected off the undisturbed snow and blinded him to his quarry and forced him to retreat until the weather changed. He returned to his humble domicile dejected and hungry. He would hunt again at sunset tonight to hunt in the twilight when the reflecting light would be less intense.

Joseph stroked the fire upon his return and sat in his rough chair flint-knapping arrowheads top while away three hours before dusk. Soon, he dozed near the crackling flame, lulled to sleep by the the sound of the small fire and by hunger. He woke as the fire began to become simply a smoulder and rose, taking his bow and a clutch of arrows to go back out into the white landscape to try and slake his hunger.

He used the advantage of the low light to watch for movement rather than trying to see the animals themselves. He took up a post high in an oak tree and watched his surroundings intently. The sound was dampened by the layer of soft, white snow and he uncovered his ears in an effort to hear better.

At last, he heard the sound of trudging through snow, with the characteristic crunch indicative of a larger body crushing through the depth of the snow. He turned his head to look at the animal and was startled to see a whitetail doe approaching in the waning light.

He braced himself against the tree and drew his bow fully back, aiming for the base of the neck to achieve a quick kill and eliminating the need to track a blood trail through the darkness. The moon was bright in the clear night, but he had not the energy to track his dinner. Four days is too long to go without food, and he knew that if he could not make this kill, then he might not have another chance. Starvation was always a possibility in this frozen hellscape Joseph called a home, and he longed for the warmer months when food was bountiful.

He released the missile from his bow and it flew through the air, bending and flexing as it left the string, twisting in the direction of the raven feathers affixed to the back of the spine. The feet stiffened as the noise of the bow reached her before the arrow did, although too late to avoid its destructive purpose. The stone point sliced through her upper shoulder and planted itself in the opposite muscle, having severed her spinal cord at the point where it entered the torso. Her muscles spasmed and she tensed before dropping dead. Death was nearly instantaneous for her and painless. Joseph took his knife from its place on his belt and quickly set about gutting her and draining the blood as she hung tied-up to a tree limb.

In death, she prevented that of Joseph. The great cycle continued for one more day, but Joseph _would_ have to hunt again.