Literature
Hunter's magic
There is old magic in the way we hunt.
We whisper wordlessly to our prey, our minds and hearts forming the chant, our mouths going through the motions but never making a sound.
The world around us ceases to be, and all we see and hear is the prey, all we are is the weave of the hunt.
We have always hunted like this, and we have never hunted in packs.
Our young hunt in twos, sometimes, while their senses are still dulled by youth, and while the magic is still silent in their heart. More often than not, though, even our young hunt alone, and come back hungry and tired, and disappointed.
We have all been there, felt that frustration an