John
*Manon left the village Mirgova in the early morning, her brown woven basket emptied of all the Echinacea roots she spent picking in the wild. The local doctor insisted she accept payment for the herb, declaring that they were in need of such plant to prevent illness around the winter time. Only a couple people had seen her off as one older lady placed a small coin purse into her basket. If it wasn't for the pushing she did, Manon would've turned around and handed it right back. They were a lovely group of people, sure there were a few people who stared at her mouth while she talked. Her fangs always caught people unaware, a healer vampire, in the larger cities it was warrant a scoff at the very least.* 

*She decided to head towards the north, the locals spoke about another village called Narshapi. Bending forward to place her basket on the floor as she opened her purple umbrella, something that would help keep the sun off her as she traveled. Slinging it over her right shoulder as used her staff to loop the handle of the basket before setting off.* 

"Hopefully I can find some more herbs along the way, It's the least I could do." 

*She said to herself, using her inherent nature magic to probe the earth for nearby plants. As always she needed to stay off the main road, nothing ever good was found near the dirt paths that connected locations together. Bandits were something to worry about as well, so much so that she headed directly west. At some point she would turn right and head north, maybe sending a prayer that she would be close enough to spot the village if she got near.*
Sherri
It wouldn't be long until blood lined her path ahead. A fresher kind - still settling into where it was on the ground and soaking it's way into the sand and dirt. It wasn't something innately obvious - many could have missed the drips of blood across the path or the larger splotch slightly further into the thicket, but to one so inclined to the scent...

It would definitely need analysis before one could properly scrutinise what it was, but it was an ominious sign. The wilds were not a particularly caring mistress and blood on the ground was always a cause for alarm, especially a trail so easy to follow.
John
*Manon was in the process of picking some ripe berries from a shrub, far off the beaten path. It was then where she heard some whining first. It sounded so far that it was just shrugged off. The berries she ate were rather tart, not her favourite flavor but it was something to pre-occupy herself with. Snapping off large clusters of the redish orange berries and lined them around her basket. The coin pouch still neatly centered in the basket. She wished she could lose her umbrella though, she looked like a large purple beacon for person with hostile intents. The constant anxiety of being watched crept in the corners of her mind. She hardly went 20 minutes without looking behind her.* 

*Again Manon stopped walking to search her surroundings for whimpering. She found herself looking at her berries as if they contained some hallucinogenic agent but she didn't pick up on any during her initial feel. She figured the next village could wait as she began walking towards the injured sounds, at least where she thought it was coming from*
Sherri
The trail of blood wasn't one hard to follow. It thickened periodically, with bursts varying between drips and splatters. The sounds became far more obvious with time, the blood reaching towards a critical location where the sound originated. 

With one more rather unpleasant sound of pain, the source of such a sanguine path could be found. Up ahead, a decent-sized buck could be seen near a tree further ahead. It's antlers had fledged fairly-well, suggesting it wasn't the youngest of creatures, but that was not the true reason Manon had come to see it. Admiring antlers could not ignore the deep-red coating the deer's brown hide, oozing out it's front.

The deer scrambled slightly, trying to stand and move forward again, but didn't get much out of it, flailing weakly. It remained on the ground, leaning mostly on its side. A long, carefully-aimed arrow had wedged itself on his left side, near the upper-front of its body. With another moment, a pulse of blood poured out the wound. This hunter had hit a vital mark - the heart - and it would not recover naturally. That was a true shot to kill, though not a particularly pleasant way to go. The buck let out another croak of agony, lifting its head slightly as it tried to push it's way through the grass and ferns, but there was no progress to be made in its state.
John
*Manon sprinted past the trees and pushes, most of them magically moving from her way as she traversed the woods. She knew she wasn't imagining things. It was the forth time she heard the injured cry that sent her bolting towards the source. At some point she started yelling in a weird language, calling out to the injured one. Any other person wouldn't understand what she was saying but the animal would. The bush in front of her leaned out of the way and she saw the buck laying on the ground with an arrow in it's chest. She spoke to the deer, telling him that she was a friend and she would help. She went behind the deer, not dare kneeling but it's hooves for the fear of being kicked.*

*She placed her left hand near the puncture as her hand began to light up. It was amazing that this deer was still alive after being shot through the heart. Heart wounds were difficult to heal one wrong move and it was over. Soon a hum came from Manon's mouth as she tried to sooth the panicking mammal down, her right hand hovering over the arrow shaft. The best way to heal something like this was to burst heal the wound shut. Her hand finally grasped the arrow shaft as she pulled slightly, her goal was to heal as fast as she moved. If the arrow came loose, she would heal the bleeding gap in the vital organ. After a couple of minutes of pulling and healing the arrow came out of it's heart and now rested only in it's chest.*