It was a cool September morning; the sun was still in its slumber, but the hunter was pulling on his boots. His pack full of the necessary items, a lighter, knife, rope, water. He grabbed his rifle near the door and entered the cool brisk air and headed towards the mountain.  The light crunch below his boots were the only noise filling the silence. After a few miles, he began to hear the creek trickling off in the distance, a landmark that ensured he was headed in the right direction. A slight light beginning to emerge from behind him, the sun was beginning to stretch its rays across the land and with each reach, awakening life within the forest. He continued forward breathing in slowly the smell of the damp pines and the musk of the creatures that had previously bedded there. 

   As he made it to his destination, he pulled his pack from his shoulder and laid it beneath a large oak. He sat, leaned against the same tree, laying his riffle across his bent knee.  He was now surrounded by the life of the forest; birds were chattering to each other from the towering trees, squirrels leaping from limb to limb in an effortless acrobatic way. The sun stretching its rays through the trees, kissing the forest floor below as it rose higher and higher. 

Sitting silently, observing the life around him move was almost better than the hunt itself. Watching the trees sway and groan, moving with the earth, something most passersby are moving too quickly to experience. Light crunching from his left, a doe emerged from the thick brush, slow and alert. She stared straight at him. Her breath visible from her nostrils in the cool air, floating up into nothing. He kept still, watching her determine whether he was a threat. She made another step forward, deciding it safe to move on and began grazing on the dew-covered grass. Two spotted fawns came leaping out from where the doe had exited trotted next to their mother. The hunter sat there quietly, watching them feed on through the opening and eventually re-entering the dense forest. 

   The hunter lowered his hat, shielding his eyes from the ever-rising sun when suddenly, the chatter of the birds had stopped, there were no longer squirrels scurrying through the trees. Cracklings of twigs being crushed echoed through the forest, filling the silence. The hunter reached into his pack, grabbing his knife, placing it in his pocket as the eerie crunching approached closer and closer. He glanced up in the direction of the sounds and there appeared the great brute of a bear; its beady eyes scanning the area, deep scars crossed his face from previous battles. His ears were tattered and looked tiny upon his giant muscular head. The bear was seemingly black but when the sun hit his long fur, it glistened a deep brown. You could see his back legs swinging out the outer sides of his body and his belly hanging near the forest floor. He carried a large hump between his shoulders that swayed ever so slowly with each step he took. The bear was grunting and snapping his jaw, for he knew there was an outsider occupying his area.

   Raising his rifle slowly from his knee, the hunter placed the bear through his sites and slowly pulled his trigger. Although placed in the center of this giant’s chest, the impact of the bullet seemed to only cause a wave of fur and fat, for the bear turned his head directly towards the direction of what had stung him and let out a ground shaking roar. The hunter quickly pulled the bolt of his rifle back releasing the empty casing and injecting another bullet into the barrel. He let another bullet fly, again the bear continued his way towards him, as though the hunter had merely thrown a rock his direction. Again, the hunter pulled his bolt back, the empty casing slightly smoking as it flew to the ground, he injected another. Hitting the bear for the third time straight in the chest to no avail.