Literature
Hunter in the width of the ice
Long I have planned it, my last hunt in the widths of the icy tundra. Countless nights I hunted in service for my clan, this night I shall bring down my last animal. After that I will be too old to be of use to them. To old to be useful, my sole purpose reduced to sitting with the elders of the clan and living for nothing. Is it that what I wish for me? Maybe. But my life was the hunt, the quietness at the stretching of the bow string, the hiss of the deathly arrow, the last scream of the animal, all that escorted me through my life and today I shall feel that for the last time...
We went out at the start of the night, the snow creaked under