The unicorn herd was frolicking near a brown river. He hadn’t heard it, or them, over the sound of his own thundering heartbeat.

But now that he’d stopped to catch his breath and recover his stamina, it was all he could hear; that distant, low growl of water was almost hypnotising.

He couldn’t just stand here idly, though; he had a job to do, so with a mighty groan, he hoisted his rifle and started to head down the small hill he was on and towards the herd.

He could have opened fire from where he was, but they weren’t overly large targets, and he was quite far away.

He was also moderately concerned about what the noise might attract. He wanted to be able to shoot the unicorns and then quickly leave, fast and simple.

Huffing his way up yet another small hill, he began to wonder if what he was busy clambering over was some long dried-up series of rivers, all minor ones which ended up connecting to that large one.

That wasn’t the only thing he thought about; he wondered if he would ever shoot a flying pig, or encounter a talking snake.

He even thought about sports and news, anything to take his mind off what was unexpectedly becoming a gruelling hiking trip.

His knees and back ached, and his hands were so sweaty he had to wipe them on himself every other minute.

The difficulty of this trek was far more brutal than he’d initially expected. He;d assumed wrongly that the unicorns would just be nearby like the troll had been when he’d been transported over.

Letting out a sigh, he froze as he felt the wind shift. It had been blowing against him, but now it was blowing with him.

Smashing the grass with his boot, he flattened and scraped everything in front of himself and then collapsed onto the spot he’d been stamping on.

He didn’t know If there were any poisonous or venomous insects but nothing stung him when he began scrapping the dirt onto his body so it was fine.

Other than masking his scent he earnestly needed a break. Just because he had the hunter class didn’t mean he spent all his time walking about shooting deer and hauling them on an hours-long journey back to his camp.

He mostly just farmed and set up traps. It was a nice, calm, and slow life.

Then that stupid freezer had broken and he needed money and lo and behold there was a convenient little tournament going on.

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He’d tried quite hard to stay away from the corporate lifestyle and then the moment he got slightly involved they sank their teeth into him, like a rabid dog with a mutilated corpse.

He was so tempted to just close his eyes a little and doze off, at least until he was back to being downwind.

He ignored that temptation and instead focused on scanning the surrounding area for anything that might be sneaking up on him.

Eventually, after nearly half an hour of doing nothing other than being baked by the hot sun, the wind shifted course and he was able to move again.

He had to still be under the effects of those drugs; there was no way he forgot something as basic as water otherwise.

He felt so dehydrated, and he’d only been out here for a few hours at max.

But with just a “few more steps”, all that would change and he would be back at the facility getting a nice cup of water.

Staggering up the final few mounds, he reached a proper hill and clambered his way onto the top of it.

From this vantage point he aimed at his quarries. They were still fairly far away, but he was confident that he could reach them and teleport back before anything dangerous got attracted by the shots.

And if there was something dangerous already here, stalking either the large herd or him, then he would deal with it. He’d bought the large magazine for a reason.

Gulping down vast quantities of the foul water and nibbling on the nearby plants, the herd was at peace.

It felt like a crime just to consider killing one of them, his consciousness also wasn’t the only thing making his shot more difficult, the aggressive sun rays gleamed off of their horns, forcing him to squint just to see them properly.

Breathing out, he emptied his lungs and then pulled the trigger, hitting one of the unicorns cleanly in the side of its neck and killing it instantly.

It was an anticlimactic end to such a beautiful creature, red spurted out from its wound, dying its coat of pure white crimson and staining the thin grass.

There was no last-minute struggles, it simply collapsed, its mane which had been fluttering calmly in the wind was now stuck against its neck by the bright blood spewing out of the innocent creature.

The other unicorns scattered like the moths when you extinguish a light, all of them stampeding away in a flurry of hoofs, neighs, and panic.

Descending the hill was pure agony on his blighted knees, but it was a necessity to reach his prize.

He actually felt rather bad once he reached the unicorn carcass. It was a beautiful animal and, even though he was quickly getting sick of the colour white, he had to admit it had an admirable white coat.

Reaching out to brush it, he was amazed at its softness; it was like he was touching a cloud.

Drawing back his hand, he looked at its most prominent feature, the large horn on the tip of its head. It looked like a marble spiral.

Even its hoofs seemed delicate and pure, and somehow it had blindingly white teeth.

It was like everything about this creature was magnificence and albinism dialled up to a hundred.

Placing the discs gingerly on it, he activated them and teleported both himself and his kill into the containment centre.