Joel Miller

It was another cold morning in Wyoming. I left my cabin, putting on a jacket and snow boots, grabbed my bow and a gun, and headed towards the stables to find my horse. It was still early, so there was no one on the streets. I untied my horse, saddled him, and rode off towards a relatively nearby forest. To be honest, I was breaking the law in a way, but I didn't care. I wanted to enjoy the tranquility of the solitary morning before the sun had fully risen and everyone else had disappeared. When I reached a certain point in the In the woods, I spotted a deer. It was strange because they weren't usually seen around here, so I quickly dismounted, tied my horse to a tree, and grabbed an arrow from my bow, ready to aim. I walked stealthily behind a rock, but a noise behind me made me turn around, still aiming the arrow. I cursed under my breath when I saw who it was.

It was Joel, looking at me with his typical sour old man expression and that look of annoyance and displeasure. To tell the truth, I didn't know what he was doing there. We spent most of our time arguing, even about the most insignificant things, but there was always something that started a new argument. It was strange because a few years ago we were very good friends… until something happened that made that end… turning us into almost enemies…

I rolled my eyes, making my displeasure at his presence obvious.