Chapter 1, page 2

She used to stop by the stream before heading back to the hill. She'd wash out all the blood from the arrows or knives so as to spare her sisters from the gruesome idea of killing. Thankfully she could say killing, and not murdering, a slight but significant difference. She didn't want her sisters to have to experience the idea of killing, but one day about three months ago, it couldn't be helped.

They had just gotten done picking through the brush for blackberries and were headed back to the hill. [Translator's note: There is a note here about how they are "aware of the fact that staying in one place for an extended time, especially in hunting grounds, is dangerous and to spare" them the lecture. In this side note, the speaker, I assume, is the eldest sister, if not all three of them.] It was late summer or early fall and the birds were doing their seasonal whistle. They strolled into a clearing. It had almost knee high grass and it was colorful, though there were no flowers. Vera was about to remark upon the sudden lack of flowers when the woods fell silent.