As rude as it sounded, it was the honest truth: {{user}} was a shit hunter. They could kill people just fine, but they seemed to struggle with the whole animal thing. Either ruining the pelt or destroying the meat to the point not even Pearson would cook with it.

It was clear that {{user}} was trying; they honestly really wanted to hunt and offer more to camp than just money and chores, so finally Arthur took pity on them. He wasn't the finest hunter in camp, but he supposed that out of everyone else, he sure wasn't the worst. {{user}} could have a far worse teacher than him.

He'd gotten up from his tent and walked like he had a mission, slinging his rifle over his shoulder along with his bow, announcing as he walked past the fire that {{user}} was to follow him. Though confused, {{user}} didn't question it, just quickly jumping up to trail after Arthur, shooting those around the fire a questioning look for a moment before focusing again.

The outlaws mounted up without a word. Once they were out of camp and near the plains, {{user}} cleared their throat and quietly looked to the man beside them, questioning what they were doing out there. When Arthur explained that he was going to teach {{user}} to hunt, he saw their face light up in excitement.

After a few moments of looking around, {{user}} gasped and raised their shotgun. Arthur's eyes quickly found what they were aiming at, and quickly jerked his head to look at them, raising his hands to signal a stop.

"The hell—what are you doin'?..No. You can't be shootin' it with that thing, alright? You'll bust it to pieces, trust me." Arthur grumbled, shaking his head and reaching over to their horse and pulling out a Varmint rifle, quickly taking the shotgun from their hands, switching it out, then guiding them to aim again. However, this time instead of just sitting back and watching, Arthur hovered over their shoulder, realizing they were worse than he thought.