"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!..."
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!..."
The riverside camp of the Deer Moss River Tribe could roughly be divided into an inner and outer camp. The outer camp was made up of sparse haystacks and grass sheds, used to house the deer herds. The inner camp was low wooden palisades and tents, used for living through the winter. The fierce, razor-sharp rain of arrows first swept back and forth over the outer camp from the east and west. Then the Hot Spring Mountain Tribe hunters on the south side quickly pressed up to the edge of the haystacks as well, trading savage shots with the Deer Tribe archers dozens of paces away.
"Whoosh, whoosh! Whoosh, whoosh! Whoosh!..."
"Ah... urgh!..."
The slaughter on the snowfield was so quiet that even at a slightly greater distance, the screams became muffled and blurred. The hunters on both sides glared with wide eyes, wearing similar Wing Armor and different leather robes, standing in silence as they loosed their arrows. They did not have the Kingdom's habits in battle: they neither prayed to gods in combat to seek the blessing of Divine Protection, nor did they often shout and roar in an attempt to frighten the enemy.
The hunters of the snowfield were used to silence, as cold and deathly still as the wind and snow of the north. They shot at one another, drew closer to one another, pulled powerful bows and loosed arrows, their eyes as keen as eagles. Arrows struck their Wing Armor with dull thuds, Bone Arrows scraped across their Leather Armor too, and the shots grew more and more precise.
Then men on both sides were struck in vital spots one after another, let out short cries, and toppled into the snow. The wounded warriors bled bright red, rapidly losing