Sebastian stared down at the O’Driscoll, his grip on the knife steady. The man’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps, his eyes darting between Sebastian and Charles. He was desperate, pleading.

  “You got what you wanted,” he whispered. “I ain’t no threat to you. Just let me go.”

  Sebastian didn’t move. He considered the man’s words for a moment then shook his head.

  “No.”

  Before the O’Driscoll could react, Sebastian grabbed his hair, yanking his head back. The blade of his knife flashed in the dim firelight, then plunged deep into the man’s throat. A wet gurgle escaped his lips as blood poured down his chest, eyes wide with shock. His body jerked once, then slumped lifelessly against the tree.

  Charles exhaled sharply through his nose. “Damn it, Sebastian.”

  Sebastian wiped the knife clean on the dead man’s shirt, unfazed. “We couldn’t risk him running back to Colm.”

  Charles frowned, shifting his weight. “Maybe. But we could’ve left him hogtied. Let the wolves finish him.”

  Sebastian sheathed his knife, giving Charles a pointed look. “And risk him getting free? No.”

  Charles shook his head but didn’t argue further. What was done was done.

  He glanced at the bodies. “We should move before someone comes lookin’.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Agreed.”

  The two men gathered what little supplies they could from the dead O’Driscolls, Sebastian adjusted his satchel, his expression unreadable as he took one last glance at the dead O’Driscolls, the two men disappearing into the dark woods, leaving nothing but blood and silence behind them.

  Charles let out a slow breath before turning toward the woods. “We should head back.”

  Sebastian wiped his hands on his coat, glancing at the tree line. “Not yet.”

  Charles looked at him, brow furrowed. “What?”

  Sebastian knelt, inspecting the ground. “We came out here to hunt. We should not return empty-handed.”

  Charles sighed, rubbing his temple. “After all that, you still wanna track game?”

  Sebastian stood still. “The camp still needs food. And I don't want to explain why we went out and came back with only blood on our hands.”

  Charles hesitated, then let out a quiet chuckle. “Fair point.” He adjusted his rifle. “Alright then. Let’s find something worth eating.”

  With that, the two men left the scene behind, disappearing into the dark woods once more this time, as hunters.

  The woods had settled into silence, the distant cries of night birds the only sound accompanying Sebastian and Charles as they moved deeper into the trees. The tension from the O’Driscoll encounter still lingered in the air, but both men knew there was no sense in dwelling on it. They had another job to do.

  Sebastian crouched, running his fingers over the damp earth where fresh hoof prints had pressed into the mud. The shape was distinct it was deer.

  He looked up at Charles and nodded. “Elk passed through here not long ago.”

  Charles scanned the area, eyes sharp. “Yeah, see how the tracks are deep? Heavy animal. Could be a bull.”

  Sebastian stood, adjusting his rifle strap. “Let’s follow them.”

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  They moved carefully, avoiding snapping twigs and loose stones. Tracking was second nature to Sebastian he had relied on it for survival more times than he could count. The tracks led them along a small game trail winding between towering pines. They passed a patch of stripped bark where the elk had rubbed its antlers, then found fresh droppings, still warm.

  “We are close,” Sebastian murmured.

  Charles nodded, stepping lighter now. He pointed ahead to where the land sloped downward into a clearing. Moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating a lone bull elk grazing near the edge of a stream.

  Sebastian motioned for Charles to take the left while he circled right. Both men moved like ghosts through the underbrush, rifles at the ready. The wind was in their favor, carrying their scent away from the animal.

  Sebastian took a knee, steadying his rifle. He exhaled slowly, aiming for the elk’s vitals. The shot had to be clean no suffering, no unnecessary damage to the meat.

  His finger tightened on the trigger.

  Crack!

  The elk jerked, stumbling as the bullet struck true. It staggered forward, then collapsed onto its side with a heavy thud. The echo of the shot faded into the woods.

  Sebastian and Charles approached cautiously. The elk’s breathing was shallow, its body twitching as the last bits of life left it.

  Sebastian knelt, placing a steady hand on the animal’s thick hide. “Danke,” he murmured under his breath, a quiet moment of respect before drawing his knife.

  Charles watched, nodding approvingly. “Good shot. Let’s dress it quick before anything else smells the blood, don't want wolves following us.”

  Working together, they gutted the elk, making efficient cuts to avoid spoiling the meat. The air filled with the sharp scent of blood and entrails. By the time they were done, they had enough to take back to camp meat that would feed the gang for days.

  Sebastian wiped his blade on his sleeve, standing. “That will do.”

  Charles slung a portion of the meat over his shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s get back before someone else finds us out here.”

  With their prize secured, the two men made their way back toward camp, leaving the dark woods behind them.

  ------------

  The camp was quiet when Sebastian and Charles finally rode in, the only sounds the crackling of the dying fire and the occasional murmur of someone shifting in their sleep. Most of the gang had already turned in for the night, their tents barely lit by the flickering lanterns scattered throughout the clearing.

  Sebastian stifled a yawn, his body aching from the long night. The weight of the elk meat slung over his horse made his limbs feel even heavier, but they had no choice but to see the job through before resting.

  As they approached Pearson’s wagon, the camp cook looked up from where he sat near the fire, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “About damn time,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. “I was startin’ to think y’all ran off.”

  Sebastian swung out of his saddle, landing with a slight stagger. He ignored Pearson’s usual grumbling and moved to untie the elk meat. “Took longer than expected,” he said, voice edged with exhaustion.

  Charles, still alert despite the long haul, helped unload the meat, setting it near Pearson’s station. “This should last a few days.”

  Pearson stepped forward, inspecting the haul with a critical eye. He let out a low whistle. “Damn fine elk. Haven’t seen one this big in a while.” He smacked Sebastian on the back, causing him to stumble slightly. “Reckon this’ll keep us fed for a bit. ‘Course, that don’t mean y’all get to slack off now.”

  Sebastian shot him a tired look. “I would not dream of it.”

  Charles smirked but said nothing, brushing the dirt off his hands. “You gonna need help with this, Pearson?”

  “Nah, I’ll take it from here,” Pearson replied, already hauling a slab of meat onto his cutting board. “Y’all best get some rest. You look half-dead.”

  Sebastian didn’t argue. He barely had the energy to. With a final glance at the elk, he nodded to Charles and made his way toward his usual spot near the fire. The warmth licked at his skin as he sat down heavily, stretching his legs out with a groan.

  The camp was peaceful now, a stark contrast to the violence of earlier. He let his eyes drift shut, the sounds of the night lulling him toward sleep.

  For the first time in what felt like days, Sebastian allowed himself to rest.

  ------------

  Sebastian stirred as the first light of dawn crept over the treetops, casting long shadows across the camp. His body ached from the previous day’s exertion, but his mind was already alert. The events of the night before still playing through his mind ,knowing that the O'Driscoll's are near.

  Pushing himself upright, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. Across the camp, Charles was already awake, tending to his gear with quiet efficiency.

  Sebastian stood and made his way over, keeping his voice low. “Charles,” he murmured.

  The other man glanced up.

  “Don’t tell anyone about what happened yet,” Sebastian continued. “Not until I talk to Dutch.”

  Charles studied him for a moment before giving a slight nod. “Alright. But don’t wait too long.”

  Sebastian sighed. “I won’t.”

  Charles didn’t press further, and Sebastian was grateful for it. There were questions that needed answers, and only one man in camp could decide what came next.

  Sebastian straightened his shoulders and turned toward Dutch’s tent.

  Sebastian moved through camp with measured steps, his breath steady despite the weight pressing on his chest. The morning air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of campfire smoke and damp earth. Most of the gang was still waking, some stretching, others murmuring as they stirred from their bedrolls.

  Dutch’s tent stood at the center of it all, its entrance slightly open, revealing the man himself sitting at his table, already deep in thought. The ever-present cigar smoldered between his fingers, a map spread out before him.

  Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He pushed the flap aside and stepped in.

  Dutch barely glanced up. “Sebastian,” he greeted, taking a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling. “You’re up early.”

  Sebastian nodded, stepping closer. “Need to talk to you.”

  That got Dutch’s attention. He leaned back slightly, motioning for him to continue.

  Sebastian took a breath. “Yesterday when me and Charles went hunting. While we were busy tracking a elk herd, we saw smoke in the distance, went to check it out.” He paused. “Found a cabin. Few men camped out there.”

  Dutch raised an eyebrow.

  Sebastian nodded. “Didn’t know at first who it was, thought it was trapper's first. We watched ‘em till I saw the trademark green sash of the O'Driscoll's, waited till the odds were in our favor. Took ‘em out quiet.” His voice remained even, but he could feel Dutch’s gaze sharpening. “We left two alive. I questioned ‘em.”

  Dutch took another drag, tapping ash onto the plate beside him. “And?”

  “They were plannin’ something. Up north,” Sebastian said, his jaw tightening. “Didn’t know what. Didn’t know where. Just that Colm is up to something”

  Dutch sat in silence for a moment, eyes flickering with thought. Then he smirked slightly, shaking his head. “Damn O’Driscolls. Never know when to quit.”

  Sebastian remained still. “Figured you’d want to hear it first.”

  Dutch nodded, his expression unreadable. “You did good, son.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “We’ll keep our ears open. See if we can figure out what those bastards are up to.”

  Sebastian gave a slow nod.

  Dutch’s smirk returned. “And, Sebastian?”

  He met Dutch’s gaze.

  “Get some damn breakfast. You look like hell.”

  Despite himself, Sebastian huffed a quiet breath. “Ja, I suppose I do.”

  He turned, stepping out of the tent and back into the morning light.