The improvised spear felt solid and comforting in her hands but Asta would still have rather had one of her father's or brother's rifles, or better yet her father or brothers with her as they tracked the animal.  A wounded animal, even fatally wounded, could still turn on you and inflict terrible, savage damage before they died and it was always better to put them down beyond arm's reach.  She worried for Alejandro, wondering if he was strong enough to do what had to be done when he wasn't in the moment of simply trying to survive.  Asta almost hoped they didn't find it, that the animal just died alone but she also understood it would be a nice source of food for several days and if at all possible they needed to kill it.<br/><br/>Confidence returned somewhat as she followed Alejandro and he easily tracked the animal.  It wasn't like on the steppes and in the snow, where the path was easily evident, and she expected him to have difficulty finding the animal but it had lost so much blood and left it on the ground that he went to where the pig resting near a tree, its hide slick with its blood and panting in shallow gasps.  Asta laid a cautionary hand on Alejandro's shoulder and pulled him back a step or two. The animal's beady, terribly angry eyes followed them but the animal stayed put.<br/><br/>"Odota," she urged and kept her hand on his shoulder, not letting him go back forwad.  "Odota," she said again and tensed up, not sure how to communicate what she needed.  Instead she just shook her head and tried to pull him back another step.  "Anna sen vuotaa kuolemaan.  Se on lähes kuollut.  Kuollut.  Kuollut."  After she repeated it she crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out to the side, cocking her head at the same time, and pretended to gasp and then went silent.<br/><br/>Back by the tree the pig struggled to rise, back legs scrabbling in the dirt, and it fell back down with an anguished grunt, still alive but growing weaker.