[center][h3][color=gold] Gavin O’Brien [/color][/h3][/center]
[center]Iraq, 2011. Night [/center]
[center] Memory recollection [/center]
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“Wake up Gavin, my turn to take a nap”

[color=gold] “wha… has it been an hour and a half already?’[/color] Gavin said as he slowly rose from his slumber. Most of his days on tour were like this. Long drives in a vehicle specifically designed to gather explosives does not do much to alleviate boredom after the novelty of the idea wears off, at least there is the occasional shotgun to IED. Of course it’s less a shotgun and more a tube filled with pellets on a tripod that you activate at a safe distance, but it is the closest anyone will get to shooting a bomb (and with all limbs intact!). That occasion, unfortunately, is few and far between.

The radio then cackled with life. “I marked an IED around the corner, but be careful the road kinda …” it said as the modified Humvee known as a ‘buffalo’ got stuck. Gavin then grabbed the radio [color=Gold] “Kinda late for that Jerry. The buffalo got stuck, someone come over here and tow us out. I’m going to rake the bomb up first though. I’m right next to the marker.”[/color] As Gavin pressed a few buttons a large metal claw unfurled from above the vehicle and was guided towards the bomb. 

“Hey Gavin…” Tim said, sitting next to Gavin. “Isn’t it odd that nobody is in this village?” As Gavin looked around, he recalls that he never saw anyone else around. While not all the Iraqi’s particularly liked coalition forces, it did seem out of place that there were no signs of life. Not even any livestock, it seems as if the entire village left hours ago...
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[center] Present day, night. The Whispering Woods. [/center]
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[color=gold] “Finally on the outside of Crescent City. Assuming, of course, the storm is not having some anomalous effect on my map”[/color] Gavin said holding a device in his hand with several functions. The object had several buttons and dials one of which, indicates it is set to displaying a topographical map of the area dated 17 years ago. [color=gold] “A part called… The Whispering Woods? I don’t hear anything… I guess the wind needs to pick up more or is there a specific area…” [/color] [color=darkred] I imagine a career dealing with explosives has dampened our hearing…. We hunger. [/color] Gavin’s stomach began to grumble soon after. [color=gold] “So it would seem. Well Beithíoch, I’m sure we can find deer or something in this forest.” [/color] [color=darkred] But deer is so boring, can’t we hunt something more fun. Like a lion or a bear! We should find something that has claws or sharp teeth. [/color] [color=gold] “Well, I Don’t think we’ll happen upon a bear or a especially a lion anytime soon. These forests usually come standard with deer. The occasional Bambi. Besides, meat is meat. Some may taste better than others, but I prefer to not eat the ones that scream… Unless they piss me off enough.” [/color]

After a few more minutes of walking, Gavin finally saw what he was looking for. Tracks of deer. Two adults and a fawn by the looks of it. A few more minutes and he found a lone buck drinking from a pond. Seems the other two were separated by time. No matter, this one would sustain Gavin for two or so days at least. More if he avoids having a Ríastrad, though unlikely given his history and the crime he hears that plagues the City. Gavin crept slowly from downwind so as to keep his scent hidden, and luckily tall grass kept Gavin hidden from view as well. When Gavin was a few feet from the buck, he leapt forward intending to wrap around the buck as it struggled and thrashed about, trying to break free with such an intensity it would injure lesser skilled hunters. Gavin however, was not a lesser hunter. A matter made much more evident with his hype-gene. 

After a brief struggle, lasting merely seconds, Gavin thrusted a hunting knife deep into the chest cavity piercing the buck’s heart. With all his skill, Gavin was able to make a quick kill, lessening the duration of the pain the buck would face if the knife missed the inertial target. Even with creatures that are not human, Gavin prefers to lessen the sorrow. It feels better for his conscious, or so he thinks. He hasn’t felt it in a long time. After a few minutes of feasting, consuming nearly the entire Buck, he left.  Leaving the carcass to scavengers, he began walking a ways to find an ideal spot to make his first of several camps. [color=gold] “Now, the fuck are we doing here Beithíoch? What did we sense in this area?” [/color]