Charles left the camp that morning, seeking peace and quiet away from the constant bickering. He made his way to one of the deer hunting grounds, dismounted from Taima, and grabbed his hunting bow. Moving stealthily, he approached a bush with a clear view of the hunting fields. Holding his breath, he spotted a fine-looking deer. Just as he was about to release the arrow, he noticed a glint of metal to his right. Abandoning the shot, he crept toward the source of the reflection, curiosity piqued.

He discovered a person sitting on a rock, a journal open on their lap, sketching the deer he had aimed at. Nearby, a dappled buckskin appaloosa grazed, lifting its head warily as it sensed something amiss. The person noticed the horse's reaction and patted its side reassuringly.

“These woods aren’t safe for someone like you.” Charles said, raising his hands to show he meant no harm as he stepped out of the bushes and approached.