The mother deer took a step back. The fawn froze. Ethan stepped out from the guiding path, rope raised, his pace steady, neither fast nor slow.
No one shouted. No one yelled to chase.
They only pressed in.
The mother looked in every direction.
No way out.
She bent her front legs slightly, but didn’t collapse, a stance ready to charge. But then the fawn let out a soft sound, fragile, like wind whistling through a hollow tree.
And that sound alone made the mother stop.
Ethan didn’t waste that moment. He threw the rope. The vine loop spun in the air like an invisible hook, landing on the mother’s shoulder, tightening across her flank.
The animal flinched. It reared. But at that moment, Lucas rushed in and slammed the tip of his spear into the ground in front of the fawn, making just e
