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He had made his way around the group, shaking hands, bumping fists and sharing warm hugs. He took in the various ideas banded around, fishing was always calming and swimming was always good for a laugh or two. However the weight that hung on his shoulders was a reminder of what he [i]really[/i] wanted to do. It was his first time hunting since the passing of his father and he intended on last kill in memory of his father before leaving the pass time behind.

There were two loud gunshots that silenced the entire group. [color=crimson][i]I guess i'm not the only hunter here then.[/i][/color] The thought was a short one as Duncan spoke. Robert boistrously followed [color=crimson]"Swimming...fishing...i'm up for anything!"[/color] The metalhead dropped his gear to the floor and moved over to Duncan at the suggestion of tents. He put his hand on his shoulder and leant over him into the trunk of his car. [color=crimson]"Thanks for bringing this for me, absolutely no hope if I had this on the bike."[/color]

Rob walked from the back of Duncan's car carrying a bag that came close to dwarfing him. It was the tent he and his father used to share on weekend hunting trips, large enough in size that even [i]The Dunk[/i] would be able to stand up in it without touching the top. Back and his gear he put the bag down and began to remove the parts of the tent. Speaking out loud to anyone that would be listening, [color=crimson]"This baby has seen some use but it's damn reliable. Me and my..."[/color] He paused for the briefest of moments as his throat dried up. He cleared his throat with a stern cough before carrying on. [color=crimson]"Me and my dad sat through some severe storms in this and it stayed standing...no leaks."[/color]