On the way to civilization

I made fast tracks away from the caravan routes not willing to dwell on the past or be easy pickings for those stalking the caravan routes. The caravan made just as fast a departure as me for different reasons...... Superstitious asshats one and all.
So I collected my gear and got it balanced on the bounce, moving deeper into the woods than most are willing to brave. For me it's home, a dangerous home to be sure but if you understand it the unavoidable dangers are actually very far and few between. I covered a good amount of ground in a few hours even with doing a few double-backs to make sure nothing tracked me. And just to be sure I start looking for suitable a spot to rest, and scope out my back trail.
It takes me another half hour to find a one with good lines of sight, comfortable and with excellent cover. A massive oak growing on a hill with thick, gnarled branches large enough to hold me and leaves thick enough to easily hide me. I quickly scamper up and onto the best branch. Here I slip out of the pack and secure it to trunk, smiling at how well it all blends in.
With considerable excitement I pull out my new long-gun, taking the time to carefully go over it in detail. A sleek bolt action rifle with a long heavy barrel capped by a fancy looking suppressor. All done in a mottled camouflage suitable for the local terrain. The oddest part for me is the fact the barrel and stock don't actually touch, having a quarter inch gap between the barrel and the under barrel portion of the stock. The scope mounted is equally impressive, a high powered sniper scope with a really fancy targeting reticule. The trigger action is smooth and very sensitive and the bolt action is perfect. I fit a total of 8 rounds into the magazine, three more than I expected and can't help the grin stuck on my face. “Hello my new best friend.” I mutter fondly while stretching out on the branch, settling the rifle into position and taking aim down my back trail.
The terrain jumps into sharp detail through the scope and I spend a few minutes just playing with all the settings on the scope before resetting everything. Damn thing has adjustment nobs for zoom, focus, light levels, distance, height, wind and another I think might be humidity. It takes me over an hour to get comfortable with the scope's controls, and nothing of interest has come along my back trail. Nice to know nothing's tailing me at least.
I shift my position and focus to the terrain ahead of me, looking for any threats, and any good targets to test this baby out on. After another hour I have spotted nothing more interesting than a flock of birds and a few spots that might make good camp sites. With nothing to shoot I heave a disappointed sigh, pack up my gear and keep hiking. Moving at a comfortable pace, one that I can keep up for hours without strain. As usual I keep my ears open and my head on a swivel, 'reading' the woodlands carefully as I go. On a few occasions I changed course to avoid some bug nests and once to avoid a Yao guai's territory but always angling south towards Seattle.

Sunset found me miles from the ruins of dead Seattle alongside the broken ruins of an ancient highway. I had scaled a crumbling concrete pillar that had once supported something called an 'over pass'. I figured nothing was making it's way up here without waking me up long before they get to the top. Making it as safe as anyplace can get out here.
I happily pop three russet mushrooms and roll myself a thick blunt of various soothing plants. I smoke my blunt and look out into the ruins, easily spotting the light of the Space Needle far off in the dark. I should reach it by tomorrow night, earlier if I can find a safe path. “And what am I supposed to do there....” I wonder aloud before laying down and going straight to sleep.

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