Down through the woods, we silently approach our prey. Its scent is strong in our noses. The young buck is unaware of our existence, at least as of yet. 40 feet away, and we see it through the brush.
Slowly we sneak towards it, but as we do, an unfortunate shift of the wind gives away our position. The buck takes off throough the bushes, ready to be caught another day. The beating of our hearts is loud in our heads, for the thrill of the hunt is still with us. We silently slink off, in search of more prey, for we know that we will never be fully satisfied as long as the hunt is in our blood. |
