My start to a fantasy

The deer was lame. How could he take pride in killing it? He thought of the tales his father told, the exitement, the chase. But then the empty pit he called  his stomach forced him to do it. He did it in the only way possible to not take pleasure in the kill, not with a bow, but a knife, so at least he was not too coward to not feel the doe’s fear and also feel its last moment. Lome then cut off a foot of the deer and buried next to were it’s body lay. He then picked up the doe and threw it over his shoulder and walked puposefully towards his house on the other side of the medioke steep hill.





I'm thinking for a better name than Lome any ideas?