"Mother of fucking Teslodi."
Jeram had to control himself from throwing his crossbow to the ground as yet again the legendary eight-pronged Bonacon bull deflected his arrows with its horns before running off into the forest. Jeram had been hunting this prize bull for over a week, and his whole livelihood counted on its return to Aslidell upon Jeram's triumphant back (or so to speak). For days he had been trekking the uncharted wilderness, following the great beast's tracks deeper and deeper into the mysterious West. If he didn't know better, Jeram might have thought the creature were luring him to his fate or some other nonsense place, but he was a Cestonian and he had no time for nonsense.
He had debts to pay and bounties on his head. Jeram's time in to explore the wilderness was practically in the negatives.
Jeram collected his arrows and ran his finger along their dented edges. The Bonacon was a clever and extremely dangerous beast, but Jeram was certain he knew the beast's weakness. If only he had one more day to chase down the bull and corner it, Jeram knew he could kill it once and for all, regardless of the years of bad luck it might bring...
He followed the Bonacon's trail through the forest until it stopped at a great canyon spilling out before the most beautiful and daunting mountain range he had ever seen. It took every ounce of his discipline to keep himself from pulling out his compass and pen and charting everything he saw. He could not believe the beautiful discovery he had made.
Jeram stood awestruck before the uncharted land as the legendary Bonacon raced away.