Dipper held his gun, sitting painstakingly and as silent as he could be. He had to be quick. His sunlight was running out, which meant those diseased bastards would be back soon. His stomach grumbled, making the twelve year-old frustrated. He hadn't eaten anything in the past two days. All they had left back in the shack were two cans of beans and deer meat, which frankly Dipper couldn't stand to eat anymore.

Finally, Dipper heard something. It had heavy footsteps and was coming swiftly and fast. He studied more of the sounds of the animal heading his way. Then that's when he made out the noise of the animal tripping and stumbling over the brush. He knew his prey was probably injured and limping off of one of its legs. Attempting hard not to breathe too loud, Dipper raised his gun. Because of his lacking in hunting, Dipper wasn't able to make a clear shot of a target. Or maybe it was because he was too frightened of the idea of actually killing someone or an animal.

It was his first time hunting. He remembered before he left how strict Ford had been that he had to not be afraid to pull the trigger when it came to hunting. Sure, he acted tough infront of the strangers to survive, but now it felt real. He closed his eyes and took a moment, taking a suck of breath in.

This was it. This was his chance, his chance to proudly trudge back home and see smiles across everyone's faces when he brought back dinner. His heart fluttered at the thought of Ford, patting the boy on the back and his sister, thanking him a thousand times. This is what gave Dipper motivation to pull the trigger.

As he witnessed a blur of faded green and orange fur ten feet away, he thought the animal was a red fox. His time of hesitating was up. Time to shoot. It happened all in a flash, his finger pushing back the trigger, the animal falling to the ground, the sound his prey made when it heard the bang of his gun.

Yes! He did it! The animal was down! The boy grinned, happy to know he was going to have dinner tonight.

Then, it hit him. With the animal's moan, he realized and regretted it all.

"Ah, what the hell?!" The animal yelled in annoyance. "I'm already dead, asshole!"

It was a girl's rigid voice in the distance. By the way the girl sounded, Dipper knew he had missed his target and the girl fell down from the fright of the thundering bang. Then, something else occurred to Dipper. What did the girl mean by "already dead"? The girl sounded pretty lively to him.

Dipper ran as fast as his legs could take him to the girl's voice. Laying there infront of him was a girl around his age with ripped jeans and a dirty green plaid shirt. On her feet, she wore worn-out brown boots. She had a red head full of hair. On her cheeks were bruises and cuts.

"Oh my god! A-are you okay!?" Dipper asked in a panic. "Did I hit you?"

"Please..." The girl stared, faintly. "Help me." Her words getting more strained and hard to get out.

She got up on one knee to reach up to the kid and tug on his red shirt.

"It got my leg! I don't want to become one of those things! Please... help me!" Her words came out all at once, her face swelled and puffy from sobbing. Her right leg was bleeding and showing her open skin. At the sight of the girl's torn-off skin, Dipper dropped his gun in shock.

At first, Dipper was speechless but then he said, "Grab onto my shoulder. I'm - I'm gonna get you help!"

The girl gratefully put her left arm over the boy's shoulder, letting the boy guide her to the shack. Before leaving, Dipper went to pick up his gun and made his way out of the forest.