Her strength was fading, and the initial resolve and courage were slowly being eroded by the harsh reality. Each time she approached a bush with hope, only to find after brushing aside the snow that it was just an oddly-shaped tree knot.

Every time she held her breath to listen, all she heard was the increasingly loud growling of her stomach due to hunger and the "buzzing" sound of blood moving through her ears.

A familiar feeling of futility began to wrap tightly around her. She had to admit that today’s hunt seemed doomed to end in failure, with nothing to show for her efforts.

Dejected, she leaned against a massive pine tree and placed the heavy recurved bow in the snow, letting her full weight rest. She was ready to take a short rest, then prepare to return to the shelter.

She didn’t even dare to think about what would happen tomorrow after she finished the last bit of mussels. Would she really have to surrender to the cruelest "white disaster" year?

Despair enveloped her like a thick layer of snow.

Just at the moment she was almost completely consumed by this silent despair, a very faint yet unmistakably clear "crunch, crunch" sound above her head pierced through the darkness and sharply entered her ear!

Vonia’s body froze instantly, as if someone had pointed a gun at her; she dared not move. Her senses were heightened to the extreme at this moment!

It wasn’t the sound of branches breaking in the wind, nor the sound of snow sliding off—a rhythmic, gnawing sound!

She didn’t look up immediately, as any sudden movement could alert the source of the sound. She remained motionless like an ice sculpture, slowly turning her eyes to glance at the treetop above using her peripheral vision.

On a sturdy pine branch about ten meters above, a fluffy, gray little figure was facing away from her, clutching a pine cone larger than its head, quickly gnawing at it with its sharp front teeth.

It’s a squirrel! A red squirrel!

At this moment, this seemingly inconspicuous, even annoying little creature was, in Vonia’s eyes, like an angel descended, radiating a light of life!

Her heartbeat began to uncontrollably accelerate, her blood pounding in her ears. She immediately suppressed it with sheer willpower.

She knew this was her only chance today, and perhaps her last chance on this land. She couldn’t mess it up!

Vonia slowly, almost imperceptibly, stretched out her hand and grasped the recurved bow lying on the snow.

The cold touch of the bow made her trembling body calm slightly.

She fitted a blunt arrow designed for hunting small prey. This arrow wouldn’t penetrate the prey but would knock it unconscious or dead through powerful impact, maximizing the preservation of the skin and flesh.

She didn’t stand up immediately; that movement was too large. She maintained her position against the tree trunk, using its rough surface as natural cover and support.

Then she subtly adjusted her posture in the snow to achieve the most stable stance.

She slowly pulled the bowstring, which felt exceptionally heavy to her weakened body; she could clearly hear her heavy breathing due to exertion!

But she succeeded in drawing the bowstring fully, until the feather end softly touched her nose and mouth corner, a stable cheek point formed through thousands of practice sessions, part of her muscle memory.

A distance of ten to fifteen meters, a nearly stationary target, should have been a sure shot in her prime.

But now, her arms were trembling uncontrollably due to long treks and severe hunger, the aim flickering around the small gray silhouette.

"Steady... Vonia... steadily..." she mentally shouted to herself repeatedly.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to recall all her experiences and techniques. During hunting, she imagined herself as a stone, a tree, completely merging with the environment and forgetting her existence.

When she opened her eyes again, at the last moment of exhaling, her fingers suddenly released the bowstring!

"Thud!"

An extremely faint thud of the arrow’s release, almost drowned by the wind. The blunt arrow silently pierced the air, precisely hitting the small figure!

The red squirrel didn’t even have time to utter a cry, its body suddenly arched as if struck by an invisible heavy hammer, dropping directly from the branch!

It drew a small parabola in the air and finally landed with a "plop" in the thick snow nearby, only raising a small puff of snowflakes.

"F*uck! Hit it!"

Vonia’s taut nerves finally relaxed, a loud curse bursting out with immense joy. She sat on the ground, gasping, then raised a victory fist to the camera.

"Well done, Vonia! Show this quiet, stingy forest some color!"

She quickly moved forward, bent down, and picked up the still warm prey from the snow.

It was small—so small it almost wouldn’t fill the gap between her teeth—and after removing the skin and entrails, the meat would likely be less than a couple of ounces.