Young Luca crouched low between the bushes, his breathing shallow and silent as he tracked the deer grazing fifty paces ahead. The animal moved slowly through the clearing, ears twitching at every small sound, completely unaware of the boy hidden in the undergrowth.
Not yet.
The distance was still too great, and rushing would only spook it. From the way the deer was moving, angling slightly to the left with each step, it would wander closer within the next minute or so. Patience always won out over speed when hunting alone, that was a lesson drilled into him a countless number of times.
Luca waited, still as stone, while the deer continued its aimless path through the grass. Thirty seconds passed. Then forty. The animal lifted its head briefly, testing the wind, then resumed grazing and took another few steps in his direction.
Any time now.
...
Not yet.
...
The deer took a step forward.
Now.
