When I was sure that everyone had fallen asleep, I quietly took my prepared things out from under the bed and snuck over to the hatch that led outside. When I accidentally kicked a stone with my foot, I was startled like never before. But no one woke up, and I made it outside without any problems.

After walking for some time in the direction where I had last seen the beast — back when it was about to tear me into little Magnus pieces — I cursed myself for not having brought a horse. With every step I took, a sharp pain shot through my leg, growing worse with each movement.

Finally, I decided to stop at the next promising tree and lay out the bait. I figured I was now close enough to the original target area. After a few hours up in the tree, I set up my camp for the night and made a fire. It had to be past midnight by then, and I wanted to eat something to regain my strength, so I shot two rabbits with my bow and arrow.

I had taught myself archery years ago, when my mother used to tell me stories about the people of ancient times. They believed in different gods, and I was especially drawn to the god of archery. After a bard from a distant land sang a song about this god and his unmatched archery skills, I knew I wanted to master it too.

In any case, I was glad to be so skilled with this weapon, because it allowed me to make this catch.