All defeated prey must be treated with respect, weak or strong.
The hunter has taken a life it did not make.
The least he can do is honour it.
Wisdoms of the Koh'rakh
NARA
Respect
I laid still in the rain, the cold drops falling heavily, plastering my hair to my face and turning the ground beneath me into a slick, muddy mess. The buffalo lay at my feet, its massive body still and lifeless, steam rising faintly from its hide as the rain cooled the last traces of warmth. The world around me seemed muted, only the sounds of rainfall was present.
For a long moment, I couldn't move. My body was numb, not just from the cold but from the sheer exhaustion that weighed down every limb. My breath came in quick and shallow gasps, each inhale sharp and painful, alerting me of the wounds I'd sustained. Blood trickled down my thigh where the buffalo's horn had pierced me, mingling with the rainwater as it pooled around my feet.
