The arrow struck true, piercing the deer's side with a sickening thud. It staggered, let out a pained bleat before collapsing onto its knees. Isolde reined Chance in sharply, watching as the magnificent creature gave one last shudder before going still. Her heart was pounding, her hands slick with sweat inside her gloves. She hadn't looked away, hadn't flinched. Beside her, Elynor lowered his bow, satisfaction crossing his features.
"Well done," he said simply, though his voice carried undeniable pride. Isolde nodded, still catching her breath. The deer's blood stained the forest floor, its lifeless eyes staring up at the canopy above.
A small gasp escaped her lips, "D-Did it s-suffer...."
Elynor dismounted in one fluid motion, walking toward the fallen deer. He crouched beside it, his fingers brushing the still-warm fur.
