Great Bear Wilderness in our town the hangman came, smelling of gold and blood and flame

np!^^

elk-scent wafts up to him. he fancies he can feel their bodyheat from here and cocks his head to listen to their snorts and their snuffles. a finger wet with spit raised up to the sky tells him they are downwind.
an old elk who is threadbare and in pennyrags has his back to them and he exhales as he adjusts his crosshairs. the jugular and the deltoid muscle and the dodging of antlers. he has them all lined up inside his head. the old elk is starting to falter and flounder.
now the elk scent is tinged with the beginning of panic.
in the cloudy diffuse light urias and the black-haired girl are shadows. he crawls on his hands and knees through the grass closer and closer to their target. he's in his element and every old forest-born nerve and every nostril and its flaring are exposed to the wet air.
ready, set, go—