Ethereal: Woodland madness

A woman walked through the trails of Drakwald forest. She packed light. Carried a rifle, sawn off shotgun and a hunting knife. 

Her clothing was largely home made. Primarily made of furs. 

She was broken and tired; hadn't heard her own voice in years. 

Sarah, or Anne or whatever he name was or wasn't checked the sawn-off that wasn't used for killing animals. All clear. 

Her rifle was an antique but well maintained and the clinking bag in her pack indicated her ammo was yet high. 

She stopped and looked at the birds taking off on the horizon. The bolt of her rifle clicked. 

Defensive position was taken in the tangled, desperate underbrush. Rheumy eyes stared down the iron sights like she'd done this forever. 

Footfalls alerted her to the presence of the Ethereal. 

Roughly man shaped, long lizard like tail wrapped in shiny armor; the Ethereal marched splay legged through the trails. 

It left no footprints despite making a noise and it never disturbed the trees or underbrush. 

It stopped, glowing orbs shining through the rusted grate of its bucket helmet. Something breathed inside there. A six fingered hand clutched a scythed blade. 

Something triggered the Ethereal and its splayed legs took it away faster than any wolf or deer of the forest. 

She let out a breath but never lowered her burlap wrapped rifle. 

The ethereal was out there and so was the enemy. the Ethereal was single minded, murderous; but it was not her enemy. 

She glanced at the dipping sun. It'd be dark out soon and not even the Ethereal would be out; much worse things would be rousing soon. 

She smiled as she glanced down at her rifle. She nodded in silent conversation with herself. 

The hunt would end soon. One way or another.