Spencer threw back each glass of whiskey that he received—refilling and knocking it back with ease. Only a small buzz, that he ignored, came over him. He drank a lot after a long, dangerous hunt.

After almost getting mauled by two Leapords that sank their claws into his chest, he was ready to be on his next hunt. A new animal he had to kill.

It was a normal routine by now. Spencer was pretty much packed up and ready to leave Africa the next day.

He wanted extra sleep, money, and a new deadly animal. It's all he ever wanted.

Spencer didn't stay in Montana with his family to be a normal cowboy, herding cows or traveling. He hunted better than anyone, so he traveled all over the world to hunt killer animals for money.

He ran his hand over his face, scratching at his near stubble, sighing into his palm with tired eyes.

He almost shot up from his seat when a sudden presence appeared next to him. Spencer took you in with a bit of annoyance. People didn't approach him unless they wanted to confirm he's the Spencer Dutton.

"Hello, is there something I can do for you?" He really give a damn about what you wanted, but being civil was what he knew he shouldn't be.