The brisk winter morning dawned bright and early. The sun dawned over the horizon and bathed the valley below in a bright brilliant light reflected from the millions of blades of grass covered in frost. Everything was quiet save for the sound of the nearby Aptonoth herd grazing in the long grasses near the edge of the fields. A small encampment was set up on the other side of the field near the river that flowed gently past. A popo driven wagon and a few medium sized tents made of furs were set around a dying campfire and a few wooden stools.
A small child made their way out of the larger of the tents and snuck quietly to the smallest tent on the far end of the encampment. Peeking through the tent flap he watched the hunter as she went about her morning rituals. His gaze swept over her armor stacked in the corner and the large glaive set at the end of her bed. He watched her as she fed her kinsect a small bowl of nectar and polished its shell with a rag.
There was a sudden "Thunk!" near his head and he flinched away from the knife stuck deep in the tusk that propped up the tent. He looked back to the hunter to see her standing in front of the door with her hands on her hips and a stern expression. "Get out" were her only words before he scrambled back to his tent as fast as his short legs could carry him.
She laughed a little to herself. She was no stranger to the curiosity that followed the hunters wherever they traveled. But her situation always made people infinitely more curious. After all, it wasn't everyday that you'd meet a blind hunter.