It is often unremarked how dark it can get at night. Outside of cities, villages and other settlements, where a torch or a campfire may shed some light, darkness rules the night. The moon may provide some light, as would the stars, but most species weren’t accustomed to using that faint light. And even the species that were, would have a hard time seeing anything on a moonless night.

It was on such a night that she found herself desperately needing her sight. For she could hear rustles in the bushes and she knew her luck enough to know they weren’t friendly.

Damn it. Down to my last three.

Gingerly, she took out a small potion out of her pouch, barely a vial and downed it in one go. Suddenly she could see.

It wasn’t like night turned to day, but all the blended details she could barely make out before, were now revealed in sharp contrast. She imagined this is what a cat would see. Not that she had terrible night vision. She liked to think she spent enough nights on the prowl, for her eyes to be better at night than most others, yet this night was darker than most.

She looked towards the bushes from where she heard the faint sounds emanating and she noticed something lurking. Faintly. The colors weren’t right when seeing like this, but she saw enough for her hand to unconsciously move towards the bow strapped at her back.

No. Bad idea. Too close.

A moment later, she found just how right she was, when with a snarl, a wolf jumped out of the bushes and started racing towards her.

She would have cursed internally, but all her attention was focused on running. Running on uneven terrain, dodging around trees, jumping over boulders, all to get as far away as she could from the wolf chasing her.

She nearly tripped, when a jaw clenched shut an inch shy of her leg. She did yelp though. That sound only seemed to encourage the animal, as it stopped for a moment to howl, before resuming its hunt.

That’s not good.

Bit of an understatement for her situation, since her immediate surroundings suddenly got flooded with five more wolves, all running after her.

At least I drank that Cat-Eyes Potion. Would have broken a hoof running around this forest without it.

The wolves running wildly after her attested to that.

That’s right, Ava. Small blessings. Keep running.

And she did. For quite a long time. Enough time, in fact, that she had to drink her only Stamina Potion. She regretted it, but she thought she’d regret being eaten even more.

Almost there. Almost there.

She kept repeating those words in her head, to the point where they were becoming her very own personal mantra.

But she was right. Up ahead, the edge of the forest was becoming apparent. Still, one hundred feet had never looked so far away, until now. She jumped and dashed and ran, until she was finally in the clear. There was little light shining down, but with the trees out of the way, the potion she drank made up for it enough that she could see clearly.

It wasn’t a wolf that had chased her. Not specifically. It was a Rockhide Wolf. And judging by how the rest of the pack waited behind it, it was the alpha. It snarled at her now and the pack started encircling her. The Rockhide wolf simply stood still. Waiting.

And that is why you’re going to die.

There was some distance between herself and the wolf. At least ten feet. She knew the animal in front of her, as large as a mule, could make that leap. But it couldn’t make it instantly.

The pack had her almost completely surrounded. She knew that, once they were in place, the alpha would lunge at her. So, she used that time to think. A simple arrow wouldn’t to the trick. She had a few special ones, but she was wary of using them, even on an opponent such as it. It would have still been a waste.

Guess I have to do that. Really hope you’re the last problem I run into today, wolfie.

As if sensing her intentions, the wolf snarled and jumped forward, paws in front, looking to tear at her.

But she was prepared. It was not the first wolf to try and make her its dinner, not even the first Rockhide one.

Her arrow was in her hand, as soon as the alpha crouched to leap. It was nocked and ready, when the wolf cleared the ground. She let it loose, when the wolf was in the air, screaming a Skill.

“|Piercing Shot|”

Her arrow hit the wolf between the eyes, going straight through its skull and out the back of its head. The wolfs’ body hit the ground, not two feet in front of her, lifeless.

She looked around at the leaderless pack, waiting to see if they would make a move, but they seemed just as wary of her as she was of them.

“Come on, you walking bundles of fur!” she yelled, with more bravado than she was feeling. “I’ll make coats out of all of you!”

The pack stirred, some snarling, others pacing the ground, but they didn’t retreat. It seemed they didn’t think she was capable of a repeat performance. In truth, she wasn’t.

Suddenly, one of the wolves behind her leapt forward, perhaps trying to bite at her neck. She rolled forward, turning in the same motion, until she was on her back, with her feet in the air and with her bow in her hands. The arrow missed the wolf and it bit down on one of her legs.

She could hear his teeth, breaking on her fur. The wolf sensed it as well, but didn’t let go. She knew it didn’t matter if she gloated, that the beast currently trying unsuccessfully to gnaw at her leg was just that. A beast. A poor, dumb, overly vicious beast.

It didn’t stop her in the slightest.

“Potions. Aren’t they the best?” she grinned.

And shot the wolf point blank.

If the pack, disheartened by the loss of their alpha, had started to regain some confidence after witnessing one of their own attacking her, it was now reduced to little more than running whelps.

“That’s right! Keep running! Who’s the top predator now? Me! Ava! Remember that!” she yelled after the fleeing pack.

Pups.

She looked down at the Rockhide wolf and its comrade and knew she didn’t have the time to skin them, even though their hides were valuable. At least, the alpha’s was, but she didn’t think her dagger was good enough to cut through it.

“Damn.” She muttered.

She still took their teeth. That was decent money, if she met a trader and they didn’t weigh a lot.

Looking at the breaking dawn she sighed and ran on, leaving the forest behind her.

And if the remaining members of the pack would remember anything from that night, it would be two things. One: a young woman named Ava looked like decent prey, but she was deadly with a bow and fast on her hooves. Two: her upper part looked human enough, but she had furry legs ending in hooves, resembling those of a goat, a short tail and two short horns on her head.

In short, a Satyr.

***

A short nap later, courtesy of the soft grass fields she’d found after exiting the forest, Ava found herself waking up to the sound of footsteps. Or better said, woke up because of this sound.

“Wha-? Again?” she muttered, groggily.

It was a very short nap.

Rolling on her stomach, she peeked her head up from the grass, to get a better view at who it was that approached her.

It took all of her fortitude not to make a sound, when she saw who it was and more importantly, how close they were. Eight figures stood around her, much closer than she thought.

They must have used a sound spell. I didn’t hear them until now and they’re right on top of me.

Peering at them, she saw that they weren’t looking at her, but scanning the field in various directions.

They don’t know I’m here. Just the general area. Tracking Skill?

Still… I could use this.

“Awake, are we? I was beginning to think we’d have to stomp around, to get your attention.”

At once, all eight figures snaped their eyes to her.

…Just pretending, then.

With a bitter look, Ava turned in the direction she heard the voice come from. As if that was the trigger, he appeared. Though ‘appeared’ is perhaps the wrong word. It was as if the very air suddenly took on features and became the one before her.

“Like my Skill? I just got it.” He grinned.

“Ianeth.” Ava responded.

“Come now, Ava. Is that how you greet your superiors. I would have expected at least a bow?”

“You are superior to me, like the grass is to the deer.” She snarled.

“But I am. Your superior. At least in the eyes of our people and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” he said, his easy smile hiding the malice, reflected in his eyes.

And they were her people. All nine figures were Satyrs, all male and all looked like they were expecting a fight, if the amount of armaments on them was anything to go by. Their leader, Ianeth, was the only one carrying a spear, with a few more strapped to his back, but the others all held bows or slings. They didn’t raise them at her, but they didn’t put them away either.

Looking at their belts, Ava could see potions, ointments, daggers and the like. They looked as if they came ready for a fight, even if they didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about actually fighting. All with the exception of one.

“Silence? No fighting words from you? No, I suppose those only come when you feel you have an actual chance at winning.” He laughed.

Ava’s eyes never stopped roaming, but her mouth was more invested in pride, than preservation.

“There’s enough words coming out of your mouth for the both of us. Funny, our people aren’t known for speaking so flowery. But I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been raised by humans.”

Ianeth stopped gloating for a second, to glare at Ava.

That may have been a mistake.

“I was sent here to retrieve you. But oh, how I wish for you to oppose us. After all… accidents happen.”

“I see. Well then…”

Ava grinned.

“Wish granted!”

Her first arrow got one Satyr in the leg, before he could even widen his eyes. Her second missed, but made the spear moving towards her head redirect, in order to block the arrow she loosed. In a second, she transformed into a whirlwind, dodging, pivoting, aiming and releasing. Her chasers were around her, but she knew this to be a mistake.

Can’t fire at me, if I keep moving around. You’re afraid of hitting one another.

While she didn’t have any compulsion against hitting the lot of them. Though she held a special place, in her furious heart, for Ianeth.

“Don’t just stand there, move! You three, remain static, make sure she doesn’t run for it. The others, move around while shooting!” he shouted at them.

I need him to keep still.

“So, you’re a leader now? How pathetic. I know you, Ianeth. You’re no Satyr. You’re a furry legged human, with horns glued atop your head.” She yelled at him.

As far as insults go in Satyr society, that was near the top. Especially since it had a kernel of truth to it.

“You mongrel!” he snarled, face flush in fury.

He stopped running and took a step back.

“|Impaling Sp-“

His words died on his lips, as he heard a distinctive crack and the sound of something falling.

The others stopped, looking at him wide-eyed.

“Did you just…? No…” he said, pale, while dropping his spear and raising his hands towards his head.

He searched and hoped, desperately, for everything to be as he remembered. One horn was. The other… He looked back, to see half of his horn lying on the grass. Trembling, Ianeth turned back to look at her.

“Enchanted tips.” Ava said, grinning, with another arrow already knocked.

“…why? Even you… why stoop so low?”

There was an emotion in his voice that she didn’t like. It sounded like… disappointment.

From him? Who is he to be disappointed in me?

Whatever her internal turmoil was, she only grinned in reply.

“To make you all stand still.”

And she let loose her arrow. Followed by a second one, not a moment later. Followed by a third and a fourth. They kept coming. Not all found their target, but most did damage. Now, the Satyrs that came for her were on the back foot. They dodged and rolled, but barely managed to shoot back in reply. Only Ianeth managed to attack, but his rage drove him to be so incoherent that he didn’t manage to use a single Skill.

Ava liked to think it was because he didn’t have a single Skill that was useful.

Minutes later, only three Satyrs other than Ianeth were standing. The rest were down, either on their knees or on their backs. No one was dead, but no one was unharmed either.

“That was fun. I wasn’t expecting too much out of a hunting party led by you, Ianeth, but you put up a tolerable fight.” Ava smiled. “True, I didn’t even have to use a Skill. Or a potion. Or even one of the better arrows. But like I said. Tolerable.”

Ianeth only glared in reply. Even the others were giving her dark looks by now.

“It wasn’t a hunting party.” He finally said, between gasps.

“Oh? So, you went after me, without the others knowing? That’s even worse. I take back what I said about your fighting skills.” Ava grinned again.

I could get used to this.

“No. They know. But this isn’t a hunting party. I only hoped to get you before he he did.”

“He?” she asked, now uncertain.

“You child! What makes what I say so hard for you to understand? We weren’t the hunting party!” he yelled, his eyes moving from her, to a spot behind her right shoulder. With a sudden smile, he spoke again. “We were the bait.”

Ava looked back and felt the blood in her veins freeze. It wasn’t eight or twenty or fifty Satyrs that came after her this time. It was a single one.

“Ban”. She whispered.

“It is time for you to come home, Ava.”

Instinctively, without even thinking about it, she raised her bow, two arrows nocked and ready to fire. She was remotely surprised to see her unconscious mind choose a couple of the deadliest. One arrow that exploded and another that caused anything hit by it to burst into fire.

“Stop right there, Ban! One more step and I shoot. I am not going back there.”

“Many do not wish you too. Most, I would say. Yet you cannot leave without punishment.”

She wanted to laugh at that.

“Punishment? You think I need punishment? More punishment?” she screamed, though her eyes were watering.

Stupid, don’t cry. Can’t see if I do.

“I do not think anything of the like. Nor do I decide your punishment. But you are wanted and I have come for you.”

Dammit. If I use a Skill with these arrows… There’s a chance. Won’t hurt him, but maybe I’ll get a chance to escape.

Fuck!

Just as before, there was no clue to the storm within her, displayed on her face. No sign. For in that moment in time, it looked as she had been carved out of marble, the only movement of her body being the one made by her shallow breathing.

It’s time.

“I refuse.” She said and started to speak her skill.

“|Impaling Spear|”

She stood there for a second, confused.

That’s not my Skill… I don’t use spears.

She noticed that there was such a spear, currently protruding from her abdomen. There was quite a lot of blood too, gushing out. That must have been why she felt so light-headed.

She heard footsteps approaching, before hearing a voice, speaking right into her ear.

“That was for my horn.”

Ianeth.

A voice was scolding Ianeth, but she was too out of sorts to make out who it was or what it said. She felt weightless, floating. The grass felt nice against her skin.

When did I fall down?

She couldn’t see well, her eyes weren’t focusing properly. But there was a fuzzy light, all around her, so she didn’t mind it all that much. Some part of her knew that she was dying and she regretted it happening so fast. She thought she was stronger than that. But the thought came and left and she noticed that she didn’t care too much, one way or the other.

Her last conscious thought focused on her home. Ironically, the very same home she was desperately trying to flee from. A mountain came to her mind’s eye, tall and proud. At its base was a flock of green hills, rolling like waves, bordering a great forest. She saw her people, standing on the stones, some waving at her, others smiling.

She was crying then, but it was a good cry. For if this was her last thought, it was a good one.

A final tear rolled down her check, before she heard a word.

“Drink!”