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>The clouds are aching
>Aching with the weight of rain, the moisture in the air grows thick and you're a ways away from your camp. You've never been one to give up the hunt over some bad weather and you've been tracking this stag for hours.
>Leopard crawling through the dust and thorns, Rifle gripped tightly in hand . Your hands are cut and bloody from this stalk but this hunt promises an almost otherworldly reward.
>A beautiful 16 point stag with fur as white as snow. Even if you dont get a chance to take it the your monkey brain needs to see it again. Plus 16 point would probably net you the win in your friendly competition against your friends on this trip.
>Reaching the end of the dry scrubby plains you catch a glimpse of it now just past the treeline. You're still a good 300 yards you reckon, it doesnt seem to have noticed you yet..
>"Fuck" you mumble under your breath, too far to risk spooking it off or landing a bad hit for it to only run off and suffer. You continue your silent stalk inching your way towards the animal, never taking your eyes off your prey.
>Like a tiger between the reeds you move with care, stopping everytime the creature perks up at any noise. You're almost at the end of the long brush, you need the concealment. Gently setting the rifle aside you pull your range finder for your pocket and get a reading.
>147 yards.
>Thats more than close enough, placing the range finder down you shift to require the rifle, brining the optic to your eye. Watching the creature for a moment before slowing bringing your finger to the trigger, you breathe in, out and hold
>...
>...
>Something is wrong, the dank air begging for the clouds to release their gift of rain has been overtaken by something else. A miasma, sweet like honey to you. Losing focus as your head begins to grow light and hazy, your face starts to grow hot and sweat begins to bead from your brow.
1/?