Hunter's Mark

[Oneille]

The bow's string grew tight, tighter still as calloused lavender fingers gripped the string back to almost snapping. If the bow string did break the whiplash alone would prove the elven huntress amateur. She didn't want that. Her leather gloved digits wrapped flawlessly about the bending string. This was it! Before her the prey stood. Tall, lanky, and fierce this described the troll hunter. Since the troubled wars with the jungle trolls to the now wishy-washy battle of the Horde Darkspear, there came bitter hatred between both races it never ceased. Factional differences aside, this moment burned intensity.nn"Just...a little closer..." her mind echoed. At her calf rested, ready and able Savior the Twilight Runner from the Stone Talon Peak. Each heartbeat thundered in her ears. The bow string tightened a little more. nnMixing shadow and stealth the huntress stayed hidden, away. The greatest deceit. In her gut a wild spark flurried to life. Hunter and hunted on two opposite sides of the spectrum. If she acted too quickly her haste would forfeit her chance and land her dead. Should she hold her own, oh the accolades would be well worth the convection! The troll looked on to his raptor pet, not a care in the world but this hunter was seasoned unlike the eager to please Kaldorei secretly flourishing. nnWho will make the move what will became of the hunter and the hunted...