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It was only supposed to be a three day trip in the woods.
Bruce scratches at his stubbly beard before continuing to lay down a tripwire trap. He prefers trapping to actual hunting, because at least it gives the creatures a fighting chance. He’s partial to fishing, but tries to convince himself it’s basically a trap as well.
Clint is just the opposite. He perches in trees and shoots down any and everything that moves. Sometimes he throws a knife if the animal sneaks up on him.
They’ve been in the woods for two week, and having run out of the food they brought with them, Clint and Bruce hunt to keep their bellies full.
Neither one wants to admit they’re completely and utterly lost.
Every day, they pack up their camp and continue hiking for a couple miles. They refused to bring GPS devices or maps, because they wanted to test their true wilderness skills.
Bruce is a little better than Clint because he’s had to survive in the woods for much longer periods of time, but Clint is quickly adaptable and soon traipses through the woods like a young buck.
“When are we going to admit we’re lost and pull over for directions?” Bruce jokes. He kicks at a stick and watches it skid a few feet to the side.
“When we grow vaginas.”
“Well I feel my balls beginning to retract, so I’m gonna go ahead and assume we’re well on that path already.”
Clint’s laugh is loud and hearty, and it makes Bruce smile. No one ever thinks Bruce has a sense of humor, people are usually caught off guard by it. Clint welcomed it with open arms and exchanged the jabs just as well as he received them.
“You know, if we never make it back to civilization, we’re gonna end up two sexually frustrated wild men,” Clint says as he sharpens his knife.
Bruce smirks. “Well, I’d hate for it to come to that. I try not to end up on the Deliverance side of things.”
“As the hicks or Burt Reynolds and co.?”
“As either.” Bruce begins to say something else when he stops and suddenly turns his head. “Do you hear that?”
Clint rolls his eyes, but tries to listen anyways. “No, I didn’t hear jackshit, Hulk Banner”
Bruce looks up at the sky, then to a tree in front of him. He circles it for a moment, looks at the sky again, and then turns his head the opposite way.
“We’re near a highway. Probably the interstate.”
Clint sighs a breath of relief and extends an arm in the direction Bruce is looking. “Well you lead the way, Magellan.”
Bruce shakes his head and chuckles. “Magellan got lost and died. I’d prefer to be Amerigo.”