Tucked amongst the vibrant foliage, a red-headed young woman crouched with taught muscles. She gingerly pressed her fingers to the mud beneath her bare feet, watching the way the leaves moved as she brushed them aside to reveal the indent of a decent-sized hoof print. Silently blinking down ay the sight, she seemed to come to a solid conclusuon as she stood carefully and began to maneuver through the brush, careful of the brambles on the long expanse of her thighs and calves. The thin and tanned skin she wore around her groin covered most of her hips and the tops of her thighs in the front and most of her buttocks in the back, leaving long slits down either sides of her thighs where the skins had been tied at her waist. It was a gift from her mother- Hazel herself had never been fantastic at clothes making- that was more modest than some of the outfits, or not-so-outfits the other women wore around the village. Her breasts were covered by a thin hide of similar thickness, tied on the back and accented with heavy leaves to keep some of her paler skin covered.<br/><br/>Swiftly hop-stepping over a fallen log, she ignores the gentle swing of her hand-made satchel against her side. Her hair is kept back with a loose tie, a few twigs and some dirt caught up in her tresses. When she emerges from the bracket at last, she's on a short cliff overlooking the beach. Not twenty feet from her, a doe stops it's ascent along the cliffside and peers out along the waves in the distance. Admiring the elegance of the creature, Hazel's lips quirk into a plump grimace. Surely her mother will be exasperated if she returns home empty handed again. She needs to provide more for her mother and younger brother, especially after the absence of her father... But it was hard when you treasured and loved the island animals as she did.<br/><br/>Pulling a taut, oak-hued bow from her shoulder and notching an arrow with practiced ease, Hazel lets it loose not a moment later. A single, pained bleat and the doe sputters, running a few dashes away before she clearly stumbles and plunges a short distance to the rocky ground below. ut gasping cries reach her ears and the woman is quick to rush to the animals side, one hand on the neck and head as she plunges the arrowhead out of its mark and then back into the deer, at the jugular.<br/><br/>It takes her some time to reach her family's hut, stopping periodically to rest. The deer, even being a doe, was too heavy for the young woman to carry on her own, so she settled for dragging it carefully through the brush. Fortunately this morning had been one of her shorter walks, but it still left her gasping for breath and damp with sweat by the time her brother rushed out to help her. He was only fifteen, but as proficient as he could be with his carved blades. As he made quick work of the deer outside their hut, Hazel collapsed beside the hide walls, watching him quietly in-between gulps of water from a hide flask. Her bow and arrows laid abandoned beside her, thin hide hiked carefully around her waist but still protecting her from wandering eyes.<br/>_________________________________<br/><br/>Holden had been nagged at enough for the day. All he wanted to do was enjoy a simple day working in the garden, dirt beneath his fingernails and the wind gently brushing his hair for him. But all his father and sister wanted to do was talk his damn ears off.<i>You should be doing this. Why don't you have a girl you like? Did you take care of the garden today? </i>As if he did anything else!<br/><br/>Throwing down the wooden shovel hed hand-carved a few months back, the ebony-haired young man clenched his teeth and stood from the plants he's been tending. Glaring at his older sister, who stopped mid-sentence in whatever lecture or rant she'd been spewing this time, he turned on his heel and carefully picked his way from the garden. Ignoring the few short calls she sang after him, he brushed the dirt from his hands and fixed the loin-cloth he wore carefully around his waist. His doors unconsciously carried him past the middle of the village, where a good number of people were gathered. The smell of cooking meat and the sight of so many smiling, mostly-naked bodies slowed his steps, but he pushed onwards. Sure, he could sit awkwardly on the sidelines and enjoy the atmosphere, but he was more in the mood to just... get away.<br/><br/>Weaving past the main line of huts, he sighed with content as his toes curled into the comforting softness of the sand. Stomping further into it, he doesn't halt until he reaches the waters edge, staring at the waves with deep lines of exasperation etched on his face. After a moment, the lines slowly disappear, and he peers quietly at the waves. His chest rises and falls slowly, with a relaxed tension in his muscles. "Finally. Some peace and quiet." At least, the peace and quiet nature offered.