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Jasper took shot after shot, some close, most missing by a few feet, but he didn't get frustrated. He asked questions, adjusted his stance, and tried again. Eventually, a raven spiraled too low, and Jasper took a clean shot that sent it tumbling to the forest floor. "Good!" Caleb called. "That's one. You're gettin' the hang of it."
Jasper then manages to shoot four ravens with several miss, but at least it helped him in improving his eye coordination for farther moving target.
Then they moved on, finding a rabbit trail near underfoot bush. Caleb showed Jasper how to track the tiny creatures by the disturbed brush and droppings, "See that? Fresh sign. Rabbits'll bolt when they hear us, so get ready."
They crept forward, Jasper doing his best to step quietly despite his obvious excitement. A twig snapped underfoot, and just as Caleb predicted, three rabbits exploded from the undergrowth in different directions.
"Now!" Caleb hissed.
Jasper brought up his revolver, tracking the closest rabbit. His first shot kicked up dirt behind the fleeing animal. The second grazed its hindquarters, making it stumble but not stop. The third shot missed entirely as the rabbit disappeared into a burrow.
"Damn it!" Jasper kicked at the ground.
"Don't get frustrated," Caleb advised. "That was good tracking. You just need to lead more." He demonstrated with his Lancaster, waiting until another rabbit emerged before firing a single shot that dropped it cleanly. "See how I aimed where it was going to be, not where it was?"
Jasper chewed his lip. "Like... throwing a ball ahead of someone running?"
"Exactly." Caleb clapped him on the shoulder. "Try again."
After that they bagged five rabbits over the course of an hour, Jasper getting noticeably better at compensating for movement and leading his target.
"Alright, hotshot. Let's try something bigger." Caleb led into a location where deer tracks crisscrossed the soft earth. "These're smarter than rabbits. They'll catch your scent if the wind's wrong, hear you if you're loud, and they're faster than you'd think."
Jasper swallowed hard, his confidence gained after bagging raven and rabbits wavering. "What if I just wound it?"
"Then we track it and finish the job," Caleb said firmly. "No animal deserves to suffer because of our mistakes."
They stalked through the forest, Caleb teaching Jasper how to read the wind by tossing handfuls of dry grass, how to place each foot to minimize noise, and most importantly, patience.
That's when they caught sight of a small group of deer grazing in a low meadow. Caleb crouched beside a fallen log with Jasper, whispering.
"You want the repeater for this," Caleb said, voice low. "Aim for the head or heart. Don't shoot until they pause. You get one shot, if you miss, they'll scatter, and you'll have to track 'em all over again."
Jasper took a deep breath, lining up his repeater carefully. His hands were steadier now than they had been earlier. One of the deer raised its head, broadside to them. Jasper exhaled and squeezed the trigger.
The Carbine's report echoed through the trees. The deer dropped instantly, blood blossoming on its head. A second shot wasn't needed, while the rest scattering into the brush.
Caleb grinned. "Hell of a shot, Jasper."
Jasper stared for a moment, stunned. "I... I got it?"
"You got it," Caleb nodded. "Let's haul it back before something else comes sniffin'."
They field dressed the deer together, Caleb showing Jasper the most efficient techniques. By midday, they'd added two more deer and as they packed the game onto Morgan and Stark's backs, Caleb made a show of inspecting their take. "Not bad for half a day's work. You know what this means?"
Jasper wiped sweat from his brow. "Dinner?"
"Profit." Caleb grinned. "All this is yours to sell. Should fetch a pretty penny at the butcher's."
Jasper's eyes widened. "For real? But you helped—"
"And I don't need the money." Caleb tightened the last rope on Stark's load. "Consider it payment for being such a quick study."
The ride back to Valentine was slower with their heavy load, but Jasper's excited chatter made the time pass quickly. He recounted each shot in detail, analyzing what he'd done right and wrong with surprising insight for someone so new to hunting.
Old Bob's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline when they bring their haul for Old Bob to see. "Hell's bells, boys." He said, pointing at the birds, rabbits, and looking at one of the deers. "Clean kill, this one. And not a single mess on the hide. You teach him that?"
"I showed him where to aim," Caleb said modestly. "The rest was all Jasper."
Bob grunted again, this time in approval. "All of this worth some tens of dollars, no doubt. Skins, meat, even the feathers, someone'll pay for all this."
The butcher inspected each carcass with a critical eye. "Clean kills. No meat spoiled. I'll give you... 47 dollars and 35 cents for the lot."
Jasper looked ready to faint. "That's more'n I make in several weeks!"
Old Bob counted out the money and handed over the money to Jasper, who blinked down at the handful of cash in his hand.
"All yours," Caleb said to Jasper who was in trance. "All of it was your bag except for one rabbit which was the one I shit to teach you, so just like I said before I don't need any payment so keep those money safe."
Jasper beamed. "Thank you, Caleb!"
"Don't thank me. You earned it."
The boy ran off to buy himself something from the general store, a new shirt or maybe a decent trousers or new pair of boots. Caleb lingered near the hitching post, brushing down and patting both Morgan and Stark, to increase his relation with both of his horse.
When Jasper returned, he hold several folded shirts in one hand and a cloth wrapped bundle under his arm. "Bought several new shirt," he said. "And I got you this."
He handed Caleb a simple cloth wrapped bundle. Caleb raised an eyebrow and unwrapped it to reveal some gun oils, two packs of cigarette, and a soft bristled brush.
"Jasper…"
"You've done a lot," the boy said, not meeting his eyes. "I just wanted to say thanks."
Caleb smiled, touched more than he let show. "You're welcome, Jasper. But I'm still making you run laps and doing the morning exercise tomorrow."
Jasper laughed and nodded. "Deal."
The sun dipped low over the rooftops of Valentine, painting the wooden buildings in warm hues of orange and gold as the evening breeze carried the scent of smoke, stew, and horse sweat through the streets.
Caleb and Jasper sat at a corner table in the saloon, the place lively but not quite rowdy yet, filled with miners, cowboys, and a few off duty deputies nursing drinks.
The barkeep brought over their meals, two steaming bowls of beef stew with thick cuts of potato and carrot, and a bottle of beer each, clinking down on the table with a practiced hand.
"Man, this smells so good," Jasper said, already digging in like he hadn't eaten in days.
"Hard work builds an appetite," Caleb replied, sipping his beer before scooping up a spoonful of stew. "And you earned it today."
They ate in companionable silence for a while, letting the comfort of warm food and cold drink settle in. Around them, the saloon's piano man began playing a lighthearted tune, and laughter rolled from the far end of the bar. Caleb leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
After they finished their meal, Caleb paid for both their dinners, 5 dollars apiece, a fair price for good food and better beer. Jasper thanked him again before heading out, saying he'd stop by the hitching post to check on Morgan and Stark, then he will go back to his room at the hotel for the night to take a rest.
Caleb, meanwhile, made his way toward the doctor's office to get his shoulder checked out. The wound from the gunfight near Cattail Pond had been stitched up a few days back, with the help of his skill it had healed up pretty fast, but the last thing he needed was an infection could happen so he wanted to check it out.
The doctor's office was tucked between the saloon and the sheriff's office, its black and white painted sign creaking in the wind. Caleb stepped inside to find Doc Calloway adjusting his spectacles and scribbling something in a ledger. The older man looked up and gave a nod.
"Back for a follow-up, I reckon?"
"Yeah. Want to make sure it's healin' right."
"Alright, go to the back room, take your shirt off, and sit at the chair there." Doc pointed to the examination room they go to before.
Caleb goes to the room, eased his coat and shirt off, mindful of his left shoulder, and sat down. Calloway washed his hands and then carefully unwrapped the bandage. His brow lifted the moment the wound was exposed.
"Well I'll be damned," Calloway muttered, probing the healing wound with surprisingly gentle fingers. "This should've taken weeks to close up, not days." He squinted at Caleb. "You ain't been putting some Indian poultice on this, have you?"
Caleb shook his head. "Just kept it clean like you said."
Calloway grunted, applying fresh gauze. "Whatever you're doing, keep at it. Wound's healing straight and clean. No swelling, no redness. Looks like your body's stitching itself together like it's in a hurry."
"Huh," Caleb murmured, filing that information away. It looks like the effect of his Physical Regeneration skill, even if it was still level 0, was pretty good, he wonder what would happen if it reached max level.
The doctor hummed, prodding gently at the skin around the stitches. "You'll likely be fully healed in another two days, give or take. Still, don't go liftin' wagons or gettin' in fistfights. Give the muscle time to firm up proper."
"Got it. I'll take it easy."
Doc Calloway then secured the bandage with practiced efficiency and stepped back. "2 dollars for the check up fee."
Caleb handed over the cash without complaint and buttoned his shirt back up, the familiar tug of fabric against his skin reminding him to move cautiously.
When he stepped outside into the golden haze of early evening, the town had taken on that strange blend of calm and energy that settled over places like Valentine, where anything could happen, but nothing seemed urgent just yet.
That was when he saw them.
Arthur Morgan rode into town on his familiar horse, brown coat dusty from the road, and hitched the reins to the post near the saloon. Following close behind him was a younger Black man on a bay colored horse, his posture alert but relaxed. Caleb recognized him immediately from his memories of the game.
Lenny Summers.
So this was the last gang member he hadn't met yet, aside from Micah Bell, who, if Caleb's memory and the timing were right, had just been arrested in Strawberry after drunkenly killing someone he called a "friend."
And now Arthur had brought Lenny to Valentine, most likely to take the edge off that event, under Dutch's orders. It was here, at this very moment in the story, that Lenny would get properly sloshed at the saloon in one of the funniest missions Caleb remembered.
But Caleb had another thought nagging at the edge of his mind.
Micah's in jail right now. Still a few weeks from Guarma. Hasn't ratted yet, but... what if I killed him now? What would change? Could I stop all that pain before it happens?
He was still mulling that over when he strode over toward Arthur and Lenny. He gave a small smirk as he called out, loud enough for only the both of them to hear. "Mt. Tacitus Kilgore! I didn't expect to see you here in town." Arthur turned sharply, one hand drifting toward his holster before his eyes landed on Caleb. A surprised chuckle escaped him.
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Name:Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 6/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 6/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 5/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 1)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 2)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
Money: 665 dollars and 61 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets