The boat creaked at every joint as it glided through the silent expanse. It was propelled by the rhythmic pull of the paddles and a gentle breeze, which whispered like wind through reeds. The boat seemed to breathe in its own way, much like the creature nestled deep within its hull. Slowly, the forester lifted his gaze, channeling his restless anticipation into the distant murmur of unclaimed prey and the silent lament of passing seconds. He mentally counted how much he had left to accomplish.
With one swift motion, he sprang forward like an arrow, reminding himself of his purpose. He fired the shot that would reach for the bird soaring freely in the sky. Quitulias missed. The beating of wings mocked him with a defiant song, celebrating life's joy and indifference to what had just transpired. The moment, barely lived, was already forgotten.
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