Vix's tail twitched slightly as she stalked through the sun-dappled forest, her eyes on the boar in front of her. A good four hundred pounds of pork on the hoof--enough to sate even the appetite of a catgirl who hadn't had a decent meal in a week. Prey had been scarce out in the scrublands: a scrawny rabbit here, a few roots and berries there. She'd grown whip-thin and wiry, not exactly the state you wanted to be in when winter winds were only weeks away. That's why she'd chosen to brave the thick, lush forests of "civilization", where rich, fat lords and ladies released hordes of animals so they could enjoy hunting them later.
The young amazon nocked an arrow. Hunting for fun--ridiculous. You hunted to eat. You hunted to live. It wasn't fun... but the eating, sinking your teeth into warm meat and lovely squashy viscera, guzzling down hot blood, that was fun. That was heaven.
She blinked away visions of steaming, succulent golden-brown pork. That pig wasn't in the bag yet.
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