The sun gleamed from a corner aiming it's direction on the bronzed skin of a man whose aim was punctuated at a target. His unbroken gaze wasn't a new thing during his hunting quests as he watches the white fox stand still waiting for death, he assumed.

The cold winter was still in reign but not for long, warm summer was arriving soon judging by the frost on the trees which are dissipating slowly and the ice in the stream which are also melting to cool the water.

Hunter tightens and ascertains his grip on the arrow watching his unmoved target. After the minutes spent in preparing, he fires his shot perfectly but cannot sight the fallen prey.

He walks away from the bushes where he hid himself.

He strides over to his game softly, smiling amicably and knowing well that his shot would never fail him. The cool wind sweeps his black hair across his face and traps his right eye, covered in elegance.

Hunter is a man of magnificence and appeal as the people of Southland prescribed him to be. Yes, he is in his forties and he was fine as hell! The glow of his blue eyes, blue as the marine and goodness; what it would glow like in the dark.

The masculine structure of this man was irreplaceable, was it the strength of his structure or the métier in his dimensions—females of the early eighteen were still proposing a place in his heart even if it be a mistress. They wouldn't mind.

Hunter is propounded at the image in front of him. How could this be possible? He thought as he steps back after gazing at what he thought was his prey.

There is an exposed woman laying on the jagged thorns and bristles, it is also evident on her face that she is in pain. Hunter is trying his best to remember how on earth she was struck by his damn arrow.

He gets down on his knees to the woman and assured her that what he was about to do would sting her a lot. Hunter doesn t even think twice before he pulls out the arrow after taking a serious look at the bleeding arm and the woman cries out, igniting pain through her gritted teeth.

Her eyes were held in a half conscious state but her breathing told she was alive and she needed a physician.

Hunter looks around his surroundings but he had left his men far beyond these bushes, he strips the brown sleeve from his arm and wraps her injury nicely still hoping one of his men had wandered to the spot.

He unbuckled his shirt and covered the woman's bare body.

"W...ater".

The female could hardly say but he heard and so he runs along the nearby stream after finding out his leather bottle was of no use.

Hunter leaves her and makes sure to fetch enough and runs back to the female who is now missing from the spot. He stands in shock once again when he finds the spot empty.

He searches left and right, but there is no trace of the injured woman. The bottle falls from his hand at the confusion that he didn t see coming. Hunter runs along a clear path which he believed she would be present but to no avail.

He goes back to the spot bending to pick the bottle now noticing an ancient looking pearl. It could have been her belonging and she must have left it, he wonders.

It wasn't possible that an animal came to devour her in just a minute without traces of blood or sought but then even if it were human, how could they have been so fast that they would pick her up from here without a trace, not even a noise.

Hunter decides to stop thinking about her after picking up the bead and wearing it unto his wrist, at least if he found her again. He looks around once more at the strange events that has just taken place until he hears the call of his men and he answers to them.

Did you catch it, General? Alfred, his most trusted man asks searching for any possible game.

"I thought I did." I replied him but he was still confused nevertheless.

You thought? The man asked puzzling the situation whether for the first time General Hunter's arrow missed.

Hunter sees no sign of her but he is uneasy about what has just happened, he doesn t feel like leaving yet.

"Do me a favour and stay longer in-case you find a woman, she's injured on her right arm." Hunter said tapping the shoulder of Alfred like what he just said wasn't a big of a deal.

Did you shoot a female? Alfred cries out but it is too late, Hunter is long gone away from the forest.

His homeland is awaiting his long arrival and he did want to kill a befitting celebration due to this confusing occurrence. He has no reminisces of when he was a young lad and he was glad, there was nothing to feel guilty about.

There is no space for weakness in his heart. Hunter has been taught that his only duty was protecting his country and securing the throne of Southland for his brother, the legitimate king.

"A son of royal birth...unlike him who had a maid of a mother." That was supposed to be a flaw in his charisma and prestige but the person we are talking about is the reason Southland was still on its feet and the strongest among its territory.

"Although, it is a clandestine as Hunter has no remembrance of this woman who claimed to be his mother but he can recall that his father once told him that the only way he could keep the woman safe was becoming a tyrant for his country.

A tyrant who spits fire and builds a legacy that has no flaw. As at that time, he took the words of his father; of course, he didn't know fallacy but his father's words still never left his mind.

He became the man he was today because of those words. Heading back to the home he had been protecting all of these years....he had started to miss the war front.