Ann and Ma'akéné were like a symbiotic machine, moving easily together as if they were a single entity rather than two separate beings. He had raised her from a foal into the magnificent beast she was now, and had forged a bond with her that ran deeper than just surface loyalty. She was family. She was his four-footed sister. And so, Ann trusted her to keep her eyes on their path while he focused on what was ahead and their prey. Even wounded, the deer was quite fast, and it was steadily widening the gap between them. Gripping Ma'akéné's heaving sides with his knees, Ann nocked an arrow and lifted his bow, sighting down the shaft toward the deer.
Then, suddenly, Ma'akéné was digging in her hooves, and Ann's view of the deer was lost behind the silhouette of a woman atop a large stallion, and his vision narrowed to the point of the arrowhead the woman was aiming at him. He released his bow with one hand to grip his mare's mane to keep from being flipped over her head as she came to an abrupt stop, narrowly avoiding crashing into the pair that was now in their path. So unarmed, Ann stared at the woman, as if uncertain what her goal was. He certainly understood the expression on her face, and the word that had come out of her mouth, as if she recognized him on a personal level. He doubted that, but the plains were a hostile place and numerous tribes roamed the land, often attacking other tribes as much as they attacked unsuspecting caravans. His own tribe was no exception, though in the last couple of seasons they had had more encounters of the peaceful variety than violent, even with members of tribes who were their sworn enemies.
He watched the woman's eyes narrow as she clicked her tongue in an annoyed way. Then, when she turned and shot the deer with the grace and dexterity only a plains-dweller could have, Ann found himself thoroughly impressed. Yet that feeling of impression wasn't enough to make him amenable to giving up - or sharing - what should have been his kill.
Before he could move, though, the woman was facing him again, another arrow pointed at him. Her question made him blink, but her tone was one he was familiar with. She wanted an answer, and she would get it, one way or another.
So, he made a show of slipping his arrow back into the quiver at his hip and sliding his bow over his shoulder, thus disarming himself. She might still shoot him, but at least this way, he had shown her he was amenable to attempting peaceful interactions.
His voice, when he spoke, was accented, for the tongue she spoke wasn't the one he had been raised speaking. "I am a hunter, nothing more. And that deer, she belongs to me. I will retrieve her and be gone."
Without waiting for her to answer him, he urged Ma'akéné forward. Snorting, the mare pranced around the stallion, flicking her tail in mild annoyance at him. Upon reaching the place where the doe had fallen, Ann dismounted in a single fluid motion, moving to pick the dead animal up and sling it over Ma'akéné's back before he mounted again.
