A practice spear struck the dirt outside the training lane just as Martin reached Forest Hidden's yard. Its owner followed it over the low rail, caught himself on one knee, and stayed there while a padded wooden arm swung through the space he had occupied. Six other hunters watched from beside the equipment rack. Rangar reached for the mechanism's brake.
"Leave it moving," a voice said near the ground. "He needs to see where he would have been."
Martin looked beneath the first crossbar. A squat beast stood with his broad forepaws pressed into the earth. Brown bristles covered his back, and pale whiskers spread from either side of a blunt muzzle. He was scarcely higher than Martin's knees, with a leather satchel hanging between his shoulders.
[Brann, Burrowback Tracker (Intelligent Beast) Lv. 38]
The kneeling hunter retrieved his spear and rose.
"I saw the target."
"I know," Brann said. "You kept looking at it while the arm hit you."
