Most hunters hat at least a little respect for their prey, their strength or resilience, their raw power. But Renata absolutely loathed them. For her, hunting was less about keeping the town safe, and more so that she got to see something she truly resented die. Her weapon of choice reflected this.

You may think the shape of her bolts were inspired by the pine trees that surround the town, but you’d be mistaken. The real reason she fletched them that way was to induce heavy bleeding and their resemblance was purely coincidental. Realistically, a good shot to a weak point was all you needed to deal with most monsters, and the bleeding did little comparatively. Renata knew this, but that was exactly the point. It was brutal overkill; bloodshed for the sake of it. She just loved to see the monster suffer.

She was an intimidating lady and almost impossible to get to know. Even her son, Ezekiel, never felt very close with her. Hunts with her felt more like lessons with a stern teacher than guidance from a mother. He’d describe her as, cold, distant and… Absent. She would often go out hunting alone for long periods of time. She’d disappear for weeks, sometimes months, and Ezekiel never knew where she went. Eventually she disappeared for good. He always kept an eye out for any signs of her fate, but never found a thing.