Jack took the barrel from the man and lifted it upon his right shoulder. He felt glad at having stopped at his house to drop off his rifle, as he knew he couldn't cary both it and the wine. He walked outside, and proceeded to heft the heavy container to his home. After a good fifteen minutes of walking, he reached his home on the outskirts of the town. It had been his old mentor's ((the previous hunter)) before he had inherited it. It was a small home, made of wood with only one level. The house wasn't too big, only a main area, and a bedroom. The place was messy, junk piled up everywhere, and the yard filled with all sorts of tools and parts. Inside the bedroom, the bed was only a few sheets atop a cheap mattress, with clothes scattered about. The kitchen had pots and pans that had probably been set there and never moved for over ten years. Several windows by the kitchen were cracked and without glass, victims of the local kids dares and passing theifs. Although there wasn't much to steal, most of the stuff wasnt worth anything.

Jack walked in, set the wine down near the kitchen, and entered the bedroom. He got on a new pair of clothes; a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a thick winter coat. These clothes weren't any cleaner than the ones he was wearing though, he merely did it out of habit. He walked outside, to his work shed, which probably contained the only things of value on his property. It was small, about as big as a bathroom in a normal house and made of wood with no windows.. He unlocked the door and entered, looking around for his rifle. It sat where he last put it, on the work bench. He made sure to clean it, removing any dirt from the barrel before returning it to the gun closet below the bench. As he put it in, he noticed he was put of bullets, he made a note to go into town to resupply later. With his gun stowed, he locked the door to the shed and exited his property. He wanted to check out the town to see what he had missed the past months.