A goofy idea to shake the cobwebs off.
Flop sighted along the barrel and took a slow breath in, then out.
A warm wind cut across the grassland in front of him, sending shivers and ripples slowly across the surface. Vibrant swaths of orange, magenta, and indigo bathed the western sky as they gave their all in one last display of wild beauty.
Just out of close range, Flop saw a vivid flash of color that was exactly what he was hoping for.
He counted stray seconds, letting them slip past as he waited for the target to enter the trap. He was losing the light and needed to act fast if he was going to make this work.
Paydirt.
A long thin specimen of carota wandered into view sniffing the air tentatively as it moved further out into the open.
Making almost no sound, Flop shot the bolt back as he took a breath in. As he let it out he quickly squeezed the trigger.
The rifle vibrated in his paws and he was pleased to see the carota twitch and drop.
He moved slowly across the open space, keeping an eye open for other predators or poachers but saw no one.
He arrived by the fallen carota; it was a beauty. His wife and the littles would eat like royalty off of this one kill.
Flop’s ears shot up as a piercing howl cut through the evening air. With a grunt he lifted the orange body, lashed it to the hood, kicked the jumper into gear and headed out.
His headlights cut through the falling darkness as the last frail embers of light faded away.
He had to move fast. Molly and the kids were waiting for him and the wolves would be out soon.