He peered with one eye, bow drawn, arrow eager.
But then he saw the redhead. Hair graced her shoulders and half of her back, skin so white that it glowed in the dappled light of the forest. She stopped before reaching the top of the hill, then turned back and laughed. She dropped something, and her trio found it uproarious.
They carried their clothes and played the part of wood nymphs, too wet to dress. Their hair was coiffed by nature, already forming crimps and curls and perfect ringlets.