Brom stepped back from the slowly spinning form of the still struggling deer.  It was hanging by it's rear legs from a sturdy branch.  Blood dripped down from the network of small cuts that he'd made, darting in each time it's struggles slowed to inflict a fresh hurt on the beast.  Laid out in the small clearing were his two previous catches, a pair of rabbits he'd trimmed and cleaned after each had finally passed.  The doe before him had already outlasted either of them and seemed quite lively.<br/><br/>Lifting his whip, he snapped it, striking the helplessly bound animal and setting it to spinning once more.  They cannot resist pain, his father had told him before he set out to his task, just keep hurting something and she will be drawn to you like a moth to flame.