Hunting was a natural sport to an archer, especially one who was always set out on a journey to gain skill in the finest of forms. Thievery, archery, hunting, killing, skinning, and of course cooking were some of the strongest traits to uphold when living anywhere but an actual home. It was always a forest, or some sort of open grassy area that had the finest catches, too. At least, that's what a lone hunter would figure.
There she was, again in another deep forest, but this one seemed different than the previous ones she'd frequented. During her time as a provider for a small group of kids, she was always known to travel through woods that were within close proximity from the camps the children created and resided. But this time was different. For a long time, she had been traveling with her brother, Brendan, but had lost track of him during one long battle with some foreigners who tried to overtake the lands they'd try to establish a life in.
Alia Berit, the younger of a pair of twins who had set out on a journey for happiness and freedom, was the one now venturing on her own to try and find a purpose through the array of loneliness that accompanied her after losing her brother. She wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, but one thing was for sure - she'd find him. She had gotten a rough start so far, but it didn't keep her down. She had to continue searching for him, even if that meant that she would find her beloved brother dead in a ditch somewhere with his head lobbed off. She was determined, and when determination strikes a strong-willed human, they stop at nothing to find what they're searching for.
Food was always scarce when she traveled, especially since all the food she ate was hunted, killed, and cooked by her alone, so a lot of it went to waste almost immediately. What ever was left over from a meal was always trash, so the hunter would leave the area and let the buzzards get to it, seeing as how they had a certain finesse in cleaning up old morsels. They never got tired, it seemed, those ugly winged things. But who was she to judge? Every living thing had a place in the world; she was just here to help the circle of life stay complete.
It wasn't long after she had gotten done hiking through the dank forest, that she stumbled upon what seemed to be a mass of vultures picking at a human-like figure. Seeming as though she may find hope in them still being alive, she prepared an arrow to shoot at the group so they'd fly away from the figure and leave it be.
With a swift movement, Alia reached back into her quiver and pulled out a sturdy, homemade, wooden arrow with a stone head attached to it. She then lifted her bow in front of her, and lined the arrow up on the marker, and pulled the string back to its taut limit. She aimed, closing one eye for specificity. When her arrow was pointed to the general direction of the group of birds, she released the bow's string, letting the arrow fly towards the birds and the figure they were pecking at, hoping that they'd abandon the area so she could investigate the scene.