From my Apprentice Hunter journal:

I feel my heart racing even as I slow my breath to keep the mist from obscuring my vision or, worse, giving my position away. I feel every texture of the loam and half frozen leaves I am pressed down on, of the wolf skin I wear, and of the trees and bushes concealing me. My heightened senses subconsciously categorize and filter the thousands of scents vying for my attention, sifting useless from necessary, concentrating on the prey while remaining vigilant for signs of danger.

I feel them coming long before I smell them, and I smell them before I see them. They track me, thinking I am still who I once was, and they believe their numbers will be enough. They do not know that I have been home, that I have learned the way of the woods. They stalk me, confident in their skill and my ignorance, but the wind whispers their secrets to me.

...

I know where they are, how many there are, how they are armed, what their skills are. I know this because I have been tracking them, too. I have moved past their sentries, stepped over their sleeping forms, and slipped away into the night knowing that fewer of them would greet the morning.

...

I watch them creep by, as I have many times now, following yet another false trail I have laid to keep them moving in circles. They do not seem as confident as they had at first, and the strongest smell on the wind is fear and sweat. I have learned all I can from this hunt, it is time to be done with it. Tonight I will poison their food and water.