Rhu had left her house late that day and, sword secured over her shoulders, ventured out into the forest. It was darker than she would have liked, the dimming sun sending out a low amber light that was easily shadowed by the trees, but she still felt immediately at home in the forest, despite it having been far, far too many years since she had last hunted. Long enough, in fact, that she could barely remember it.
She had stayed on the path for most of her trek for safety's sake, and kept her eyes firmly on the ground, scanning for prints. There were some she could recognise, the tiny three-pronged claws that left only delicate indents into the ground were birds, and while they were easy enough to identify, they were only noticeable when she passed a muddy puddle or otherwise-soft area of ground. It was a good thing, she thought, that the ground had yet to go hard and frosty with the winter - after that she would have no chance to hunt, not until the snow fell, at least.
Then, out of the corner of Rhu's eye, she saw another track. It was larger, with each toe spread far from the others. A dog, perhaps. Or a wolf. Moving closer, Rhu crouched down next to the track and placed a careful finger inside it, gently feeling out the depth, as she dimly recalled seeing her mother do in the past. The track felt quite shallow, which she supposed meant the animal was light. Not a wolf, then, she thought, mildly disappointed. A dog, perhaps. Or a fox. Possibly a small wolf, she re-evaluated, and tried to gauge in her head whether a wolf pup could make such a track. It was possible. Anything could, really, as long as it had a centre pad to its foot, and four clawed toes.
She had a quarry at least, and was reasonably certain it wasn't human. Or a bear - and that thought, of fighting a bear and just seeing Hala's face, brought her up short for a moment. If one attacked, could she - No. No, she didn't think she could and it wouldn't (couldn't) come to that. Rhu studied the tracks again, picturing Hala's bear-feet as she did. They had been larger, even when she was just a cub. Five toes, too. This one only had four.
Not a bear then, and it was with no small amount of relief that Rhu adjusted her sword so it was more comfortably arranged against her back, and hastened after the beast, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground to seek out the next set of tracks amidst the undergrowth. Whatever the creature was, it was her dinner now.
Rhu of the Tempered Steel