>>6023331After climbing another snow mound on the road to the nearby town, or whatever remains of it — he couldn't even remember what it used to be called anymore — Mikhail spun his head to the side as he heard menacing the whispers of wind brushing against his ears. "Hell, I heard something. I know fucking heard something," he said, pulling his old rifle from his back.
The lone hunter hadn't actually shot anything with his rifle for years, resorting to slingshots to down the oversized bugs that crawled their way up to the rotten logs of his cottage, for a specially loud noise could alert all the pollinators in the surroundings. But after losing the only haven he had to The Rosebed once again, all bets were off. "I'm not going to spare any bullets if that means I get to shoot down one of those viney fuckers straight in their holes."
Indeed, even if a Pollinator had its body impossibly cobbled together with countless vines, a fine shot, specifically one aimed at their stigma, was enough down one of them. That is until a passing pollen wave germinated it anew. Fire, Mikhail knew fire was the only way to permanently down one of these demons. But it was also the most alarming one: The whole organism would turn its sense to the specific tectonic root he was standing on, and make him wish he used the fire on himself instead.
Countless thoughts passed through his mind as Mikhail stood still, aiming his rifle at some stray flowerbed growing under a collapsed bridge. They glowed a deep red color, and he could feel their warmth even from this far. If only he could rest there for a while, maybe he'd finally —
Mikhail's eyes flashed wide as he saw a shadow moving past the massive pillars of the bridge. A tall one, at that. He immediately flinched back and held his rifle closer to his chest, his wide beard now covered in snow. He shook his head, and gulped, staring unblinkingly at that same spot. "
He could — pretend — to let it go, so as to not risk drawing attention from anything else, and continue to make his way into the city. But what if the thing took a liking for this old man's garb and carcass? It was bound to chase him later on in this case. Either way, the sunset was only a few hours away, and he had to make a decision to ensure he could live to dread another day.
>attempt to pursue the shadow>continue heading for the city>write here (wins if most "agrees")Also listing some items Mikhail has with him that may be relevant to the situation:
>fully loaded Mosing-Nagant>ten rounds spread over two extra magazines>lighter and matchbox>ice axe>binoculars>compass>backpack and sleeping bag 