The next moment, a fat wild rabbit burst from the brush and fled wildly toward the other side of the slope. Theodore drew his bow and nocked an arrow. With a sharp whoosh, it flew from the string, tracing a fleeting arc through the air before piercing straight through the rabbit's neck.
Carried by momentum, the rabbit rolled several times before collapsing crookedly onto the grass, utterly still. A hunting dog came running back with the prey in its jaws, its tail wagging excitedly.
More than ten minutes later, Vitus shot down a deer with his Matchlock. The enormous blast startled away the remaining prey and drew Theodore's complaints.
Left with no choice, he put away the Matchlock and quietly watched his elder brother's archery. Over the next two hours, Theodore struck two deer, one pheasant, and four rabbits in succession.
At noon, the party climbed a gentle slope, and the view before them suddenly opened up. To the north lay a broader valley, where a creek wound its way through the land, with a dense oak forest on the far bank.
"Look, there's a wild boar!" Theodore cried excitedly. He returned the light arrow to his quiver and replaced it with a heavy, triangular arrow with greater penetrating power.
An adult wild boar was exceedingly dangerous. The two tusks by its mouth were like short spears, capable of piercing an enemy's body. Moreover, wild boars loved to roll in mud; over the years, their hides became coated in a shell of earth and resin, giving them additional protection.
Theodore swung down from his horse and slowly crept closer under the cover of the grass, then fired an arrow at the boar's belly.
Unfortunately, he had grown accustomed to using light arrows just moments before and had switched to the