With heavy breaths and a clear view of the elk, Terrence stood stock still. Letting his breathing center his aim.<br/>Aim with your mind, kill with you heart...don't forget the face of your father.<br/>He repeated over and over in his mind like a mantra.<br/><br/>When the time came, his movement would be like lightning, fast enough for the human eye, but with breath-taking precision.<br/>The creed of a gunslinger, he kept chanting in his mind. It was more than his voice, a choir of voices, some damned, some joyful, all of them propelling him toward his goal.<br/>Ka.<br/>Fate.<br/>Destiny.<br/>Over time he'd begun to believe in this less and less, the great Wheel of Ka had no place for him anymore. It had tossed him on the outside, he was a useless benefactor.<br/><br/>The wind, it changed, weakened, shifted it's course.<br/>Like a whip cracking, his arm was up, gunsmoke drifting from the barrel of his revolver. He remained silent as he put away his gun.<br/>He ambled over to the Elk, it was a clean kill (Ironically enough), the bullet had passed right through it's brains.<br/>Terrence began to drag it by the antlers over to a shadier spot, somewhere the winds couldn't interrupt his work and perhaps spoil the meat with it's foul breath-like wheeze.<br/><br/>With a sharp knife, he went at it, skinning and rationing. Dinner would be hearty tonight.<br/>One ration for cooking, the other rations to be salted and cooked over the course of however many moons it would last.<br/>If Terrence was lucky enough, he could begin a cycle for at the most twenty nights.