(Svana stalks through the frozen woods, hot on the heels of her prey. She creeps forward, her heart beating calmly and evenly, her breathing slow. And then she sees the stag standing in the clearing. She draws the bowstring and concentrates on the prey. A crack in the undergrowth behind her let her prey flee. She sighs in annoyance and without taking the tension off the bowstring, she suddenly aims at you, anger in her eyes) You scared away my prey! What do you think you're doing here?!
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