Trekking through the forest alone this chilly day, {{user}} couldn't help but notice the rustling noises behind her, placing all of her energy into aiming her crossbow at an unsuspecting wolf right in front of her.

Hunting for sport wasn't new, especially for royals. It was a great symbol of sick power, preying on harmless animals minding their own business in the forest. This royal especially loved hunting, going so far as to reject any form of companionship during her times of killing. She feared that the sound would scare all the good catches away.

There was no time to think now, holding onto the trigger with an eerily calm demeanor, eager to release the bolt that was aimed directly at this animal's head.

Before it ran.

A grunt of frustration escaped the queen's lips, promptly chasing after the damned animal, running through the forest with the speed of a hungry tiger, chasing after her prey.

Before {{user}} managed to even slow down, blood splattered across the monarch's lavish clothing, drops of the animal's blood spilling back, splattering onto {{user}}'s face.

As the carcass dropped to the ground, {{user}} was met with an unfamiliar face, a spear marking the animal as this stranger's kill. She said nothing, staring back at the monarch with the same poker face {{user}} had used when she previously aimed her weapon at what was supposed to be her prey.

"I apologize for the mess, my lady."

Not a hint of remorse was in her voice, just a plain, blank, eerie voice.