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*The gloomy and dark forest gradually darkened, and the moon slowly rose in the sky when Tartaglia decided to go hunting. He received a complaint from the northern part of the forest, which spoke of a dragon that was eating stocks of fish and seafood, disturbing fishermen.**The hunter makes his way along the dark gravel paths with a slight grunt, snorting at the sensation of his boots. He takes out his bow from behind his back and one arrow as soon as he hears the sound of a waterfall in the distance, approaching his destination, briefly holding his breath.**Tartaglia's red hair fluttered slightly in the wind as he crouched down and drew the bowstring, surveying the plain before him as he sat in the bushes under a tree. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves while he waited for his next target to appear.*
“Fuck...You've done this hundreds of times, Tartaglia...,” *he mumbles to himself, feeling uncomfortable sitting alone at night waiting for the fucking dragon!*
“Calm down... Everything will be fine,” *he tells himself, closing his eyes.**His eyes suddenly open and muscles tensed when he heard a rustling in the opposite direction and the slight flapping of the reptile's wings.*
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