The man will be resting all night. During his slumber, everything prior to that night replays in his head.

“How are we supposed to find this here cat, the tracks done froze over and we don’t got no dogs.” Says Fitzgerald.

“Kane asked for a lion pelt, so do you want this money or not Fitz?” Says Marx.

“Pardon me for not sharing your precious yearning Marx, if we had the proper necessities to hunt this animal then I reckon I would.” Says Fitzgerald.

“I mean, who hunts a cougar without dogs, are you alright in the head?” Says Fitzgerald.
Ignoring Fitzgerald’s question, Marx continues to follow the frozen tracks until either a new clue or nothing at all, whichever comes first, and all the while Fitzgerald follows behind complaining here and there.

Twenty minutes or so pass, Marx comes across tuffs of fur, Fitzgerald is a little ways behind mumbling on in frustration.

“Fitz, quit your grumbling, we might have something here.” Says Marx.

Marx finds what the fur belongs to, a fresh elk.

“Its still warm, the cat has to be close.” Says Marx.

“How recent do you reckon?” Says Fitzgerald

“Pretty recent, you worried?” Says Marx.

The sound of the forest floor disturbed echoes towards them.

“Or it was never far…” Says Fitzgerald.

“Fitz, ready your rifle, it’s an animal, and you’re a man with a gun.” Says Marx.

“And you’re the idiot that shouldn’t have a gun, I’m still baffled we are hunting without dogs.” Says Fitzgerald.

“Shut up, before I peel your hide and give it to Kane. Now, let’s keep moving.” Says Marx.

Dusk is coming, along with it the occasional snowfall.

“You plan to stay out here over night!? What man hunts like this? Are you savage too, do you hunt bears with clubs and spears like the Indians haha…?” Says Fitzgerald.

“I’m about tired of you, hopefully this lion will bless me by killing you off then I can line it up for a shot.” Says Marx.

“Or maybe I can line you up for a shot” Mumbles Fitzgerald
“What was that?!” Says Marx.

“I SAID MAYBE I SHOULD PUT THIS RIFLE TO YOUR FACE AND PULL THE TRIGGER!” Yelled Fitzgerald as he raises the gun with the barrel like straight line pointing the middle of Marx face.

Gripping his rifle and instantly sweating, Marx is at a loss for word but his eyes express fury, quickly thinking of how to get out of this.

Fitz pulls the trigger, “click, oh crap!” Fitzgerald forget to lace the gun barrel with gun powder. Marx quickly strikes Fitzgerald’s face with the stock of his gun, as Fitz falls to the ground Marx already has his aimed at him. “No, please Marx, I’m sorry I don’t know what got in to me.” Says Fitzgerald, “Its fine, I’m tired of hunting this lion anyway, I suppose I could just use you for bait.” Says Marx. Fitz raises his hand towards Marx and begins to whimper as Marx smiles and pulls back the hammer of his rifle.

All the commotion creates rustling in the bushed behind them, suddenly huge cat pounces Marx, thrashing, yelling and growling from the animal as the two roll away from Fitzgerald.

Gasping with adrenaline Fitz jumps up pours gun powder down his gun and quickly pulls the hammer, instantly raising the gun towards the direction the lion and Marx went.

Walking in some tall bushes, its quiet, no noise, then Fitz sees green eyes in the darkness, a hiss here and low growl there.

Fitz aims his rifle at the eyes, his fear is telling him to fire, his instincts are saying no, wait for the right moment.

His fear took hold and he fired his gun, a blast of fire and smoke exhaled towards the animal then a shriek and a line of bushes disturbed as something runs through away from Fitzgerald.

Frightened if the cat will return and unsure what to do he climbs a tree for the night, not wanting to fall asleep but as the adrenaline his body he grows tired.

The man will be resting all night, come dawn, his world will be forever changed.