The sky was a solemn mix of grey hues and shades, though the mere threat of rain remained only that--a threat. Gabriel sniffed the air as he gazed up at the gathering of clouds. He couldn't remember the last time it had rained. The heft of the handgun in the back of his jean waistband brought the now calmer man back to reality. There was no point in reminiscing now. Not after so much had transpired and so much time had already passed. Besides, there was no true [i]home[/i] anymore, just a safe place to rest and resupply for the moment. That's what this life was now--rest and resupply. Thoughts drifted back to the contents of his backpack and Gabriel decided now would be as good a time as any to check the quality of the items. 

Supply missions were usually easy enough. The area around settlements was constantly being mapped and updated by dedicated teams of scouts if the community had any worth whatsoever so the hunters always knew exactly what was around and where they could begin there search for good supplies. Once you were given the okay to actually hit the location, it was just a matter of following the map and being cautious of any bandits or strangers the scouts may have forgotten to take care of or missed in their recon operations. Once at the site, a skilled hunter would check the perimeter at least once or twice more; the difference between life and death these days pretty much depended on patience and preparation. After entry, the objective was always to get in and get out as quick as possible, but with as many quality supplies as possible. You never wanted to be in one place too long just in case other communities had sent their own hunters to the same area. And of course, one always had to be wary of nomands--the people who lived on their own and claimed no community at all. Once supplies were acquired however, the most important thing was to ensure the quality of said items. A good hunter couldn't just grab whatever looked useful, they had to make sure whatever they got wasn't rotting or falling apart. 

Gabriel had almost forgotten this golden rule as he set his pack down and took one last look around the area. The meadow was a fairly open expanse punctuated by tree lines on the left and right. The hunter favored this route because even if he, himself, was open to danger, any enemy he encountered would be in the same predicament. At the same time, however, he always made sure he erred more towards the right side of the meadow so he could disappear into the tree line should he need to make a quick escape. He knelt down near the trunk of a rather tall tree and unzipped the dirtied and beaten backpack. His haul would be impressive to the rest of the hunters back at the settlement, but he kept his excitement quelled until he could verify the quality of everything. So, he started with the food. 

Echoes of the bound man's pleas from the log cabin reverberated in Gabriel's head. As he check expiration dates, he couldn't keep his mind from going back to the scene in the living room and the exchange he had. A person looking from the outside in might have perceived the situation the only way it probably could have been perceived. In truth however, there was a little more to the story. Gabriel's mission had been clear from the beginning; he was supposed to go search for supplies from a promising log cabin the scouts had stumbled on after missing it during their initial mapping. Since everyone knew Gabriel hated hunting in teams, the modest size of the cabin meant that a one-person job was not out of the realm of possibility. At first, the hunter refused the job for personal reasons until he realized the possibility of a certain other communities' hunters being there. In the end, Gabriel only accepted the job in the hopes of meeting the man he would later kill. 

After ten minutes, the stock was accounted for. There had only been three cans of rotten food and one bottle of expired medicine--the medicine would be kept regardless, however. Packing everything back up, Gabriel slung the bag over his shoulders and continued with long strides towards the settlement. It was only a moment later that he felt a sharp, blunt impact to his ribs and the sensation of falling towards the tree line. Before he could properly react, the assailant was on top of the man, knife to the collar bone and wicked grin on her face--[i]her[/i] face. "Looks like you know who I am, but I'm at a loss here," Gabriel replied, reciprocating his own sly grin, "Seems kind of rude to shoot a woman without knowing her name, ya know?" Though he was pinned to the trunk of a tree, the hunter had been able to quickly--instinctively--pull the handgun from his back during the fall and now had the barrel pressed into the kidney of his unknown attacker--a good old fashioned standoff.