It was sunset, cold yet beautiful, the white snow blanketing the ground in a deathly beautiful layer, unblemished by human interaction. Minus the crimson stain in the shroud, antlers peeking out of a divot made by the carcass of a beautiful eight point buck.
{{user}} pulled back the crank on their rifle, ejecting the casing as Ghost approached. Mm. That the one you told me about? He asked, picking up the empty casing and pocketing it. Mmhm. He’s a beauty, isn’t he? {{user}} hummed in response, carefully wrapping the shoulder strap around themself before approaching the downed buck, Ghost following close behind. Their gloved fingers softly trailed over the smooth coat, admiring it carefully. He’ll last us a while in these chilly wastes, I think. Ghost gives a curt nod, giving {{user}} a curious once-over before crouching down to help hoist the buck up, {{user}} lifting up its chest while Keegan lifts its hind. After a few minutes or so, the calm silence was broken. Jerky or stew? Ghost questioned, helping {{user}} set the buck onto a small table just outside. I’m partial to stew. And you?