nysalogs | april catch-all.

[ Guys like this suffer in silence away from prying eyes. He'd tolerated staying with Steve and Diana as long as he wasn't mobile, but the moment he was he packed and bid them a quick goodbye. There's a cave out here in the woods he can spend some time reflecting. Indulging base instincts. Returning to a world where that's required of him is to survive, survive, survive. ]

[ The forest is a good hunch. A few deer cut through the path, fleeing from something, and a moment later Bruce emerges from the undergrowth. He nods briskly at the man, then continues steadily on his path, hunting. Join him if you like bud, he'll share the meat. ]

[Hunting. Rumlow had participated in his fair share of survival exercises and even gone on plenty of hunting trips. It was easy to simply fall in line behind Bruce and ease his way in the man's wake. It seemed to him that a deer was a bit of a large kill for one - even two - guys. He personally was an excellent shot when it came to rabbits.

However, he was here to check on up Bruce, make certain the guy was getting on since the big incident. He didn't say anything - wouldn't want to spoil the hunting - and he was content to observe how Bruce ran a hunting exposition like this anyway Two guys killing something to eat; that was life at its most simple and at times most pleasant.]

[ It's without fail his favourite kind. Hunting, just him, just blood and teeth at the end of it. Bruce has a taste for violence, all his anger is given over to strangers, who bear it with broken bones and a terror for things that move in the dark. ]

[ Bruce leads the moment he senses the man at his rear, alert, holding his crossbow. He simply gestures at Rumlow to fall in line beside him, instead of behind. The deer will slow down soon, and they'll have to move more silently. ]

[Rumlow wasn't equipped to hunt a deer, not really. He had a sidearm and a knife, but neither of those were hunting weapons. Still useful, but he would hate to have to waste a bullet on a kill at this point; he didn't have much ammunition left.

Still, he settled walking next to Bruce, his eyes and ears strained to listen for sound of the deer. He was trying to determine the direction it was heading, so he could branch off and push it more towards Bruce for a shot, but that would come a bit later.]

[ A bullet's wasted on this kind of kill anyway. Arrows will do, so will knives, when it comes to that. He signals to Rumlow to circle around, pleased he's already looking for the opening (good, the less people he has to train into this kind of teamwork, the better), when the deer have stopped to drink. Drive them to him, and this will be over in a flash. ]

[He noted the signal as he disappeared into the foliage, moving quietly and slowly around until he could catch sight of the deer drinking. He eased into position carefully, aware that he could startle it in the wrong direction if it picked up his scent. He looked in the directions that it could go, but the easiest path was directly back towards Bruce.

He waited, and then clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth to raise the deer's attention in his direction. Then he rose slow and easy before charging out like predator (or maybe a madman), driving the deer back down the path.]

[ Two arrows, two direct hits. Bruce steps out, looking over them, letting the others pass by. There'll be other times. ]

You take that one.

[ He picks up the one closest to him, leaving the other for Rumlow. ]

[Rumlow caught up again, noted the kills and shrugged his shoulders to the indicated animal that he was supposed to be carrying. He threw it over his shoulder, careful to try to limit the blood spillage on his clothing and followed Bruce.

Wasn't this just a fun venture? He waited to actually say anything until they had arrived to wherever Bruce intended to settle into some kind of base camp.]

You ever coming back to the city?

[ It's a quick walk, past the trees, across the path, to a little clearing where there's a fire. He'll move, either in a few days or few hours, just because he likes to. The real base is far from prying eyes, and Bruce will never lead anyone there. ]

Miss me already?

[This was too open to be the prime base of sulking or whatever it was that Bruce was doing out here. It wasn't defensible enough, though it looked like some Robin Hood encampment minus the girl. He wandered over to a place between two trees and dropped the dead deer there, dusting his hands on his pants.]

Making certain you're not dead in a ditch somewhere.

[ Dry, ]

I'm flattered you care.

[ He doesn't, of course. Bruce just picks up the knife to make ready to prepare the deer — gesturing a place for Rumlow to sit with his own. ]

What've you been up to, besides being a busybody?

Your flattery makes my day.

[Said equally as dry. He pulled his own knife from his boot, and it was a military-issue blade. He found a rock to seat himself upon, crossing his ankles and watching Bruce even as he began to skin the deer.]

Ostracizing myself from a person I respect. Had a one-night stand; that was exciting. I was hailed as a hero for the rescue efforts, which was a ridiculous show. You been out here the whole time?

[ His hands move like he's done this before, many times, even though he hasn't, not practically. ]

Yes.

[ He doesn't like people. He likes the great outdoors. The first is the truth, the second a half-lie. Bruce doesn't especially need creature comforts, but has become accustomed to a few, and it's hard to wash out the taste of bespoke suits and fine wines. ]

Who's ostracizing you?

[Rumlow had learned the skill over time, and while he knew he should hang the deer between the trees to bleed it, he decided not to. He could work like this.]

Are you hiding, sulking, or just enjoy nature that much?

[He personally couldn't give up running water. It was just something that he had grown used to and while he could go without for a time, it didn't mean that he liked it at all. He might even bitch and complain about it.]

I'm doing it to myself. Force of habit. Easier not to give a shit for anyone when they don't for you.

Can't say I argue with that logic.

[ Since he's been there, too well. His mind has to be rewired to accept friendship, kindness. It is a long, messy process, even if he doesn't especially mind digging around in his own blood and guts. ]

Which one of those three do you think I'm doing?

[ (He's sulking.) ]

I didn't you could what with you being all one-with-nature out here. Don't seem like the easy friendship kind of guy.

[And that was based off of two meetings, one of which had Bruce being unconscious for most of it. It was good times, but the first meeting had left quite an impression. Like they understood each other on a level that others might not.

He surveyed Bruce for a long moment and then shrugged.]

You're definitely sulking like a little bitch. Care to want to fill me in? Cross my heart that I don't give a shit enough to tell anyone about it.

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