[h1][center][color=007236]Hunter Monroe[/color][/center][/h1]
[center][img]http://cdn.theatlantic.com/assets/media/img/posts/2014/03/0_0001_Layer_3/e3ded0fca.jpg[/img][/center]

When thrown into a stressful situation, you really learn what people will do to survive. What people will do to one another for something as simple as a bottle of water, for a granola bar, for some bread. And well holding that shotgun in his hands Hunter was in a moment where he was about to find out what he would do just to survive. He saw the woman give the young child the bread, there was another child who also looked healthy. It was hard to say how much food they had, but Hunter didn't have any at all. He was a decent shot, he could take them all out in seconds, so fast that no one would even know what had hit them. He was still strong enough to handle the gun in his hands, another day or two with out eating and maybe he wouldn't be. Another day or two he may be dead of dehydration.

He raised the shotgun, taking aim at the mother first. But the moment he braced the gun against his shoulder he about threw up. His body froze as the firearm hit the ground. What kind of person was he becoming where he was willing to shoot a family just for a meal, with children so young. And he was about to kill them all. Was it even what he was becoming now? What if he was already this new kind of person? He picked up the gun and threw it over his shoulder. "[color=007236]Excuse me miss? Everything okay?[/color]" He tried to speak in a non threatening tone. Which was hard to say how well it was working, he was still panicked about his actions, and he had two guns on his back at the moment. Considering she seemed unarmed it was hard to say how she would react to him walking up to her.