CHAPTER THREE
The taut string of the bow quivered against Etta's fingers as she lined up her shot and tracked her target. She pulled her arm back, feeling the soft feathers of the arrow against her skin. Loosing the arrow, she cursed when it flew wide of the fox. The animal ran off, probably to harass someone else. She'd been tracking it for hours, because it had been causing havoc for a few of the families nearby.
She threw the bow down in frustration. It was a skill she'd never been able to master. A stick snapped to her right, and she caught sight of a deer, its head bent, lost in its own hunger.
Etta slid a knife from her belt and flipped it once in her hand. With the stealth of a thief, she stalked toward it unseen. Only the soft crunch beneath her feet told of her presence.
The d
