shouldering his rifle, eyes scanning the treeline Deer sign's fresh. Bedding down nearby.

crouching, running gloved fingers over a hoofprint Aye, and not alone. There's a whole herd moving through here.

leaning against a birch, bandanna loose around his neck Let 'em come.

smirking Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's gonna be dragging a carcass back.

adjusting her earpiece We split up here. Johnny, Simon—take the eastern ridge. John, Kyle—west. I'll hold the perimeter.

his whiskey-colored eyes flicker, just briefly, past the treeline ...Right.