Aaah, the first hunt of the season. The one after which I usually look like I've been dragged twice around Troy. Yes, I did get lost and ended up in full Sleeping beauty-land, so entangled in thorns, I am now literally perforated over all parts of my body bar torso, which was clad enough. From neck, ears, to my fingertips - at the time in gloves, mind, and my head was in a hat - all covered in tiny stab wounds. I've a bruise and a thorn in the middle of it, right above my knee. The dog got lost towards the middle, failing to follow us across a wet field, so she kept going back and forth the first forest. We had to look for her afterwards, and did find the poor old thing frantically trying to find us on the trail, so exhausted she couldn't make it up the stairs as we got home. The forest is packed full of mushrooms, even some edible ones, I think, I just didn't have anywhere to put them. Some truly majesty moments, walking onto moss-covered clearings, or some small grassy swamps, or wonderful leaves-covered forest roads. Everything is orange and ablaze. SO beautiful. The General argued, as I was in a bad mood because they managed to shoot a bunny, (our time-old argument about me being a hunter who refuses to hunt and a soldier who refuses to follow orders) if it bothers me so much I will opt-out in the future. I asked if he agrees to come explore the woods for six hours every Sunday, which of course he won't. So, alas, I have to suffer through the gunfire to enjoy it, searching, wishing we cross paths and have secret sex. Ironically, I did come into his range today and he could see me, but I couldn't see him and couldn't properly hear him whistling. That's what you get for catcalling a deaf chick.