The Arrow. It was a mistake. I never meant to let it go. One moment it was there, the next it was flying. It was just a bit of fun in this quiet time; aiming at trees, targets. I had never meant for it to become serious. To be fair, I suppose, they did get in the way. But on the other claw... I should have seen it. They were always joking around.
I cannot avenge their death, for it was my doing, but I can carry them with me. Their memory rests heavy in my mind. I just wish, to this day, to this very second, that I had never loosed that arrow, never even touched the bow.
You may wonder why I hunt. Well, it's because I see in every life a part of them, the goding, teasing side of them. It's as if they stalk me through the animals. I must rid myself of that si
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