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And there, grazing calmly in the distance, was a small herd of bison. Charles pulled his horse to a halt, raising a hand. "Look over there," he murmured, his voice carrying just enough over the wind. He gestured with a nod of his head. "You see them all? Incredible creatures, aren't they?"
Caleb felt his breath hitch slightly at the sight. The bison were massive, dark, hulking shapes moving slowly through the grass, their coats shaggy and thick, heads low as they grazed. There was something timeless in their presence, something that reached down into the bone.
Charles turned slightly in his saddle, his dark eyes flicking between Caleb and Arthur. "We should only kill one of them. I'll keep them ringed in and see if the two of you can bring one down. Keep it clean, okay?"
Arthur gave a small nod, his usual smirk replaced with a flicker of quiet respect. "Okay."
Caleb felt the familiar weight of his Springfield rifle across his back, and his fingers twitched with a mix of anticipation and steady focus. He drew in a slow breath, exhaling through his nose. "Okay," he echoed, his voice low.
Without another word, the three men nudged their horses forward, riding down the slope toward the herd. As they approached, Charles peeled off to the right, his horse cutting a wide arc through the grass to corral the bison, guiding their movement without spooking them into a stampede.
Caleb and Arthur eased to the left, moving in tandem. Caleb's pulse quickened as they drew closer, the heavy smell of the animals reaching them on the wind. His eyes darted across the herd, picking out a large bull slightly on the fringe, its thick horns curving like a crown above its massive head.
"That one," Arthur murmured, pointing with his chin.
Caleb nodded, sliding smoothly from his saddle. He dropped into a crouch, steadying his rifle against his shoulder, the polished wood cool beneath his cheek. His breath slowed as he lined up the shot, sighting just behind the bull's broad forehead.
One squeeze of the trigger.
The shot cracked through the air — the bison jolted, bellowing in surprise. Caleb stayed steady, racking the bolt, firing again, and again. Three sharp reports rang out, and the bull shuddered before crashing heavily to the ground, kicking up a plume of dust as its legs gave out.
Arthur gave a low whistle, easing his horse closer. "Well, you don't waste time, do you?"
Caleb exhaled slowly, rising to his feet as Charles rode up from the far side, his horse tossing its head. A faint smile curved at the edge of Charles' mouth.
"Well done," Charles said simply, glancing down at the massive animal sprawled in the grass. "All right, skin and butcher it. Take the horns too, Caleb. It all can be used."
Caleb nodded, already moving to sling his rifle across his back as he pulled his knife free from its sheath. The bison's massive body radiated warmth, and for a moment, Caleb just knelt beside it, laying a hand against the coarse hide.
There was a pang in his chest, a small flicker of sorrow, but also gratitude. He murmured something under his breath, a quiet thanks, before setting to work.
The knife bit into the thick hide, peeling it back with practiced care. Arthur joined in, helping to turn the carcass while Charles dismounted, pulling out a small hatchet to help sever bone and joint. The horns were sawed free carefully, wrapped in a cloth for Caleb to carry.
By the time they were done, sweat clung to Caleb's brow, and the metallic tang of blood lingered on his fingers despite his best efforts to wipe them clean.
Charles stretched, rolling his shoulders with a faint grunt. "That should feed the camp for a while," he said with quiet satisfaction. "Good work, both of you."
Arthur let out a short laugh, clapping Caleb lightly on the back. "Not bad for a morning, huh?"
Caleb gave a small smile, though his mind was half elsewhere, the weight of Dutch's unraveling, the uncertainty threading through camp, the way Mary-Beth's smile had lingered in his mind longer than he cared to admit.
But here, in this moment, there was a kind of simplicity he could hold onto. The work, the hunt, the quiet camaraderie, it steadied something inside him. They loaded the meat and hide onto their horses, dividing the weight evenly before mounting up again.
Charles pulled gently on his reins, slowing his horse as they reached a gentle rise in the landscape. He turned in his saddle, glancing back at Caleb and Arthur with a subtle nod. "Okay, let's go over here," he said, his voice calm but edged with a note of purpose.
Caleb felt a flicker of familiarity curl in his chest, a memory from the game rising unbidden to the front of his mind. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed. He shifted slightly in his saddle, adjusting his grip on the reins, watching as Arthur rode up alongside Charles.
"Where are we going?" Arthur asked, his voice curious but light, the wind tugging at the brim of his hat.
Charles glanced ahead, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he tilted his head toward the horizon. "I thought I saw some scavenger birds in that direction," he said, his tone tightening just a touch. "Just wanted to see what attracted them."
Without waiting for a reply, Charles gave his horse a gentle nudge and rode ahead at a steady trot. Caleb and Arthur exchanged a brief glance before following, their horses' hooves thudding softly against the grass and dirt as they moved across the wide, open plain.
The land stretched out around them, an endless sea of gold and green, the grass whispering in the wind. As they crested a gentle rise, the sharp cawing of birds reached their ears, dark shapes wheeling in the sky, circling lower over something half hidden in the tall grass.
When they drew closer, Caleb felt his stomach tighten. The scavenger birds, ravens and vultures, flapped and shrieked over the carcasses of three bison, their bloated bodies half decayed, flies buzzing thick in the air. Their hides torn open, rotting in the sun, the stench hit them next, a sour, rotting tang that made Caleb instinctively draw his scarf up over his nose.
Charles reined in, his posture stiffening. His voice came low, a grim undercurrent running through it. "No… look. Bison. Shot and left for dead, it looks like."
Arthur pulled up beside Charles, his brows furrowed, a frown creasing his face. "Why would someone do that?"
Caleb brought Morgan to a halt on the left side of Charles, his own breath catching slightly as his eyes swept over the scene.
It was worse than he remembered from the game, the bison were grotesque in death, their great hulking forms slumped in the grass, eyes glazed and skin pulling tight over ribs. Flies clouded in black clouds over open wounds, and a pang of pity twisted in Caleb's chest.
Charles turned his head, scanning the ground. "I don't know," he murmured. His gaze sharpened as he pointed. "But I see horse tracks heading in this direction. I say we follow them."
Caleb gave a small nod, his voice quiet but resolute. "Alright, Charles. Lead the way."
Without another word, Charles guided his horse forward, following the faint tracks through the grass. Caleb and Arthur fell in behind him, the three of them riding in measured silence as the plains gave way to a narrow dirt road flanked by two massive stone hills on either side.
The rocks loomed high, casting long shadows over the trail, and Caleb felt the landscape press in around them, the stillness deepening.
As they rode, Arthur broke the quiet, his voice thoughtful. "Could it be an animal that killed those three bison?"
Charles shook his head slightly, eyes on the trail ahead. "No," he said firmly. "They'd just been shot. I just don't know why anyone would leave them to rot like that."
Caleb rode in silence, his mind flickering between the familiar and the unfamiliar, the game he'd once known and the flesh and blood reality around him now.
The weight of the rifle across his back, the heat of Morgan's body beneath him, the scent of dust and grass and decay, it was all vivid in a way the screen had never captured.
Charles' sharp intake of breath snapped Caleb back to the present. The man pointed abruptly to a small hill off to the right, his voice edged with surprise and a hint of restrained anger. "Look. Another dead bison, on the hill to the right. Come on!"
Without hesitation, the three of them angled their horses and rode up the incline, the grass flattening beneath hooves as they crested the hill.
There, sprawled just beyond the rise, lay another bison, its body fresh, blood still dark and tacky around the entry wounds.
"Shot and left for dead again," Charles murmured, dismounting swiftly. His jaw tightened, and Caleb saw the flicker of frustration in his eyes.
Arthur had dismounted as well, his sharp gaze sweeping the area. His boot kicked lightly at the dirt, eyes narrowing as he crouched beside a small circle of blackened stones. "There's a camp over here," he called. "I'm going to take a look."
Caleb slid off Morgan, his boots landing softly in the grass. "I'll join you, Arthur," he said, already striding toward the old campfire.
The camp was barely more than ashes now, the embers long gone cold. Caleb crouched beside Arthur, his fingers brushing lightly over the ground, the remnants of a meal, the faint imprint of boots, a few spent cartridges half buried in the dirt.
"Whoever it was," Arthur muttered, "they weren't here long.. Logs haven't got cold yet." He glanced up at Caleb, his blue eyes thoughtful. "Maybe half's a day since they left."
Caleb listened to Arthur's assessment, absorbing the details. He didn't possess the same honed skills of observation, the ingrained knowledge of the land that Arthur and Charles seemed to carry within them.
He felt a pang of longing, a desire to learn these arts, to read the subtle language of the wilderness as fluently as they did. Perhaps, by paying close attention, by watching and listening, some of their expertise would rub off on him. Tracking, he mused, would be an invaluable skill.
Arthur and Caleb rose and walked back towards their horses, joining Charles near where he stood, his gaze still fixed on the dead bison.
"Camp's not too old," Arthur reported, swinging himself back into his saddle. "Maybe half a day since they left."
Charles nodded, his expression grim. "This bison's been dead about the same amount of time." He looked from Arthur to Caleb, his dark eyes narrowed in thought. "They could still be in the area. Let's get up higher, see if we spot anything."
With a shared understanding, the three men urged their horses further up the hill. "This way," Charles directed, guiding his mount towards the crest. "We should have a good view from up here."
Reaching the summit, they reined in their horses, their gazes sweeping across the vast expanse of the landscape. The wind whipped gently at their hats, carrying the distant scent of pine and damp earth.
'See anything?" Charles asked, his voice low, scanning the horizon.
Caleb's gaze immediately drifted north. The memory from his past life, the countless hours spent navigating this virtual world, flickered in his mind.
He recalled Charles's observation, the telltale sign of smoke on the northern horizon. And sure enough, there it was, a thin column of grey smoke rising lazily into the clear blue sky.
"Arthur, Charles," Caleb said, pointing. "Look there to the north. There's smoke. There could be another camp."
Arthur's head snapped in the direction Caleb indicated, his eyes narrowing as he followed the line of Caleb's outstretched arm. "You're right," he murmured, a hint of urgency entering his voice. "Let's go check it out." Without hesitation, the three men wheeled their horses around and spurred them into a trot, heading north across the rolling terrain towards the distant plume of smoke.
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 2)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv1)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
Money: 731 dollars and 61 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets