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Too Hot to Hunt
The Checkered Demon Muses on His Mountain

It's Sept 4, and killing a Deer or Elk has been legal since the 1st. Hot, like folks who live at altitude hate it. Smoke limits the viz to around a mile or so, the fires in Montana and seemingly all points West funneling their smoke in through some cosmic weather prank.

The Deer are still moving in the ways I have been watching all year, and it would be season over to just sit in the weeds a bit and nail one. See the beautiful creature through crystal optics and launch a projectile through its heart. Drop it on the right slope so the innards slide off downhill as you gut it out, but it's hot. Blowflies would show up like looters, all taking their taste and intruding on a rather sacred scene, plus it's hot with the sweat and stink. The Bot flies are out laying eggs in your dog's hide all the while. Feel for knots when petting. Nature is just too damned active!

Were it survival none of it would matter. See Deer. Shoot Deer. Dress Deer out, take home and get laid. I'm not on the prod for food though. This is some fantasy we fat-ass pampered modern men do, I fear, just to kill.

I try to do it every year, but when it is cold and the swarms have died off. It is very cold, and quiet. A slight bit of movement out there, and the play unfolds. It is a bit of the elemental that we left behind so long ago, and there is the summer-sausage too.

Right now though, too hot.

-Checkered Demon

Collateral damage, I suppose

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