Hunting Grounds

The chilly mid-winter air stung my fingers as I gripped my Savage Arms .30 Caliber rifle,  holding it steady in my hunter's blind. In the past four years of hunting I had only seen a buck once, and it was to far down range for me to take a safe shot. This year, I was determined to get at least a 3-pointer. Beside me was my Grandfather, with is own rifle. He was with me because I was to young to go by myself, I trusted my Grandfather with my life, if anything happened to us, he would make sure I made it through all right. I was enthusiastic about hunting every time I went, but waking up at 4:00 AM and staying in the same place for 12 hours at a time really waned on my health and sometimes my sanity. Most of the time I was up there I slept, stared out a nylon screen, and ate. That was all, for the most part. Then I saw movement.

"Hey, down there." I whispered to my grandfather, signaling with my hand to my the movement down range. I lifted my scope to my right eye and peered through it to the sighting and saw a buck.

"Yep, a nice 6-pointer, go for it." responded my Grandfather. I slowly brought the sights in line with the buck's vital areas. I then gradually slowed down my breathing before holding my breath completely to steady the gun. I drew back on the trigger until I felt resistance, I doubled checked to make sure the safety was off. It was time, I pulled back my finger harder and felt the stock of the gun kickback as the bullet exploded out of the barrel before falling to the ground and blacking out.

As I regained consciousness I immediately noticed the utter lack of my Grandfather and the fact that it was nearly midnight, according to the position of the moon.  My rifle lay next to me, I checked it for ammo and found four out of five bullets not fired. Past were the rifle was laying, was my Grandfather's winter coat. I picked it up to examine it and found it surprisingly heavy. Rummaging around in the pockets I discovered a box of 60 bullets and pocketed them. I stuffed the coat into one of the three backpacks lying around.

"Agh, fuck. I better pack this shit up and get off this mountain." I muttered to myself. I unzipped the blind's nylon door and stepped out into the freezing cold mountain air. The blind was held in place by four strings tied to small trees. I undid each one from the blind and stuffed them into the blind's respective pack. I then took the two small chairs from inside, folded them up and set them on a log with my rifle and the other backpacks. After that I picked up the blind and, after much difficulty, managed to fold it up and get it inside its pack. I then shouldered all three packs, the two chairs, and my rifle. I won't lie, it was all extremely heavy.

Even though my Grandfather was gone and the mountain seemed to be different, the red tape used to guide us from the Kawasaki Mule to our blind was still there. I slowly trudged down the steep incline and ducked under a few fallen trees until I could make out the dark green of the Mule. Walking up to it silently I set the three backpacks and two chairs down into the cargo bed. I unloaded my rifle and pocketed the four bullets and set the safety to on before setting it onto the run rack and locking the rack down.

I clambered into the drivers seat of the Mule and buckled my self in before pulling the choke out all the way. It wasn't my first time driving so I knew what I was doing. I made sure it was in neutral gear and turned the ignition. After a few seconds of the engine turning over it came to life. I immediately noticed that the battery gauge showed exactly 12 volts (perfect condition) and the fuel gauge was reading 20 gallons (a full tank). Releasing the parking brake and pushing the choke in, I shoved it out of neutral and into low gear. Before moving I made sure it was in 4-wheel drive and differential drive was on, as I had no Idea how rough or wet the terrain was up here. After turning on the headlights I pushed down on the pedal and drove down what seemed to be a trail. Little to my knowledge, I had a long drive ahead of me.

After what seemed like an eternity, the end of the mountain came into sight and I broke out into a large field. I had not expected any of that. What I had expected was to come out of the mountain behind my Grandparent's house and I would run I side to my Grandmother where she would comfort me and tell me everything would be alright. At this point the thin barrier protecting my sanity fell and I broke into tears.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, ffffuuhahuhuck." I sobbed all the while slamming my head into the steering wheel causing the incredibly loud horn to go off each time my head hit it. In the distance lights in a small cottage came on but I was to broken to care even the slightest amount. Hours seemed pass but in reality it was only a few minutes before I finally came to my senses. I finally came to the conclusion that I needed somewhere to stay for the night and checking on the cottage would've been a better option than sleeping on the Mule's seats.

The drive was extremely short to the cottage but seconds seem like hours when you've just lost mostly everything in the blink of an eye, or, a shot of a gun. Pulling up to the cottage I turned the engine off and put the gear into neutral whilst engaging the park brake. I then proceeded to walk up to the door and knock on the aged wood in was made of. After only a few seconds, a small yellow four legged horse opened the door.

"Uhm, hello?" It asked.

"Uhhhh, you talk. You're not supposed to talk." I said, my sanity was dangerously low.

"Eeeeee, monster!" It screamed and ran inside while slamming the door shut.

"Fuck." I grumbled, I was about to turn around and get out of there when it opened the door again.

"Please excuse me... for my reaction, I'm just not used to strange creatures talking. What is it that you want?" It asked

"Listen, this is might sound really crazy, but I just came out of... well over there" I pointed to the forest that I had driven out of. "I need a place to stay for the night and I just wondered if I could maybe, well, stay here."

"Do you promise not eat me?" It asked, starting to tremble.

"What? Why would I eat you?" I said. "No, I won't eat you."

"Well, okay then. Come in." It responded while ushering me into it's house. "Might I ask, do you have a name?"

"Yes, my name is Smitty WerbenJagerManJensen, and I am number one." I said sheepishly, trying my best to hold in the laughter that was rising inside me.

"Uhm, excuse me?"

"Oh, it was a joke from where I'm from.... my real name is John Grietel. Now might I ask, what is your name?"

"Fluttershy is my name."

"Can I ask, where am I?"

"Why in Equestria of course!"

"Eques- whaaa?"

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN