Dorothea swore loudly, not caring that the her voice echoed, and bolted towards the buck, brandishing her hunting knife. She dove at the deer, flailing and screeching wildly. She would get this deer, she would get her food, loosing herself to a moment of madness didn't matter. As she grabbed at the deer's neck with one hand and slashed with the hand that held the knife, Dorothea caught a glimpse of another hunter standing nearby; he'd scared the prey and if she didn't get this kill, she'd make sure to punish this idiot.