The greatest virtue a hunter can have is patience.
Though the soul may be weary, there on the horizon lies the hope of a prize bigger than any other.
He had already caught a glimpse of the most beautiful creature ever's figure, though he was still skeptical about it... It seemed as if he had fallen in love, but it was too soon to tell for sure, and how can a hunter fall in love with his prey?
Time passed and it made the hunter think it just couldn't be; but then, as the snow filled the sole of his black boots, and congregated with fury over his heavy leather coat, his eyes crossed with the delicate creature's ones, and it made things clear... it was love indeed.
The snow is slowly dissolving, melting away, and the hunter waits for the right moment, with nothing but an arrow, his trusty bow... And, of course, patience.