The smell of Hunters

Another passage from the story im writing, enjoy:

The boar lifted it's head towards the mountains momentarily, sniffing the air. A gentle but insistent breeze swept over the long grass in waves, falling over its mahogany hide. The wind brought with it a certain chill, a message of the ensuing winter. The mountains in the distance were already capped with a magnificent white, that now in the dusk shone yellow almost as bright as the setting sun itself.

The creature grazed amongst the first sparse trees that littered the edge of the Amothir Forest, sharpening his tusks on the splintered bark. The scent of undergrowth made it's belly shiver hungrily, and it's search for food was immediately livened, the promise of a full stomach laying amongst the bushes. It's snout twitched instinctively, leading it towards a log which lay just off the beaten track. 

The boar nudged it with its tusks to reveal a damp spot upon which the dead log had laid for decades, crawling with beetles and worms - a boar's very delight. 

The beast tucked in happily, sucking up the smallest insects, crunching the larger ones. It grunted happily, filling up its large belly with delicacies, fit even for the king of the forest. It was so happy, that all around him remained unnoticed. he was oblivious to the sound of the eagle's cry, completely inattentive to the smell of ought but the damp.

In fact, the poor boar was so happy with its meal that it didn't even blink when an arrow flew silently and swiftly into the base of its brain.