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>Woke up early 5am.
>In the woods by 6am.
>Hunted slowly, quietly, and methodically, for 11 hours.
>Legs and knees hurt like shit.
>Stag walks in front of me as I start to decide to give up and walk back to camp before sun set.
>Make a 'meh' sound to stop him in his tracks.
>Deer is in perfect broadside position within 80 meters.
>Bang
>Deer runs out of view
>1 and a half hours of searching reveals no blood, no deer
>Long painful 2 hours trudge back to camp in the dark feeling like a fucking failure.
The next day I got a small little ~8 month old fallow right as I was about to give up and go home after 6 hours of seeing nothing but fuck me this hobby can get extremely demoralizing and depressing. Pic related is the shitty environment i hunt in. Trying to stay quiet while climbing through this shit is a mentally draining task, also while trying to stay alert to any signs of deer between the trees. The first sign of the fallow I shot was an ear flick. Thats it. An ear. And then it moved a little bit so I could see its face.
