Ro pulled back the bow’s cord, holding his breath, following his sight down into the meadow, his eye followed a young pack of hyenas. The world seemed to slow down, with a twitch of his finger the first arrow flew and before it met it’s mark, Ro’s hand pulled back another arrow and then another. Each arrow flew steady and met their mark, two of the hyenas were felled instantly while the third hobbled a few feet away and collapsed. The others, mostly younglings just maturing from pups, had fled into the thickly forested surroundings.
Ro, for as long as he could remember, had this power: slowing time, uncanny senses, if he could think it, it could be done. He often tried not thinking what this could mean, if it had any consequences and was the reason he hunted alone. The rest of the village’s hunters moved in packs, targeted larger prey, but Ro moved alone.
Ro pulled out his knife, a sharpened stone, and began cutting into the carcuses; the village was far off and