For the Widowers in Paradise (loveme, Arrowmae)

He held Delmont close. Sasha was there by his side, her eyes trained on the buck several yards ahead. The teddy bear tucked under armpit, Grant narrowed his eyes and focused on the animal. It was healthy, strong. If he caught it, it wouldn't go to the Capitol. It'd go to his family. Now that they'd closed off the hunting forests, he had to sneak through. And while the potential consequence would be fairly grave, the benefits, at the moment, were worth the risk.

His bow was fixed on the buck, and he loosened his grip a bit, feeling the arrow getting ready to fly. Holding his breath, he kneeled down and aimed. His eyes widened as the buck made eye contact. It had noticed him, but it did nothing. It only began to walk, furthering itself from him, creating distance. Make your move, pal. He runs, you lose. The sound of the arrow zipping through the air was countered by the loud bark from Sasha. Grant watched in dismay as the arrowhead stuck itself in a tree and the buck scattered. "God damn dog..."

Grunting, he put his hand on his knee and tried to push himself up. As he began to stand, he fell back down on his kneel. "Ugh.." He grimaced as he finally stood up. He'd been becoming weaker. And soon, he'd have to accept the horrifying reality that he had been running from for years now. The fact that Otis would have to start hunting again. The boy hadn't gone hunting since his mother died. The man sighed heavily, limping toward the tree where his arrow was stuck. After yanking it out, he chipped some bark off, and consumed it. He chewed and chewed, making it last. It was disgusting, but it was the only way he could deal.

Sighing again, he tucked Delmont into his coat and called for Sasha, who appeared quickly. He then began to walk home to the children he wished were his.