Some time after the shouting died down, two of the hunting party set themselves down among the softer parts of the grass, and made good their promise to construct a pillory. They had come prepared with ample tools, and wood was all around them. The intended occupant of the pillory was brooding some few clearings over, sending rank loud profanities sporadically across the air, shaking his fists as if in a seizure. The forest swallowed any menace from his cries, leaving the two members of the hunting party to smirk at each other as they planed out the wood into planks.
They whistled cheerfully in their verdant surrounds, leaning back, hammering the planks together to form a crude but effective stock. The intended victim crept closer, perhaps equal parts horrified and enraptured. His final moments, he knew, were not far from here.