The dull crunch of leaves beneath my feet filled the air as I trod my way through the woods. Still slightly damp from last night's rain-shower, only the top layer had dried enough to give that telltale sound a each of my footfalls. The smell of damp leaves and earth was all around me as I stalked my prey. If the weather didn't give it away, the still-colorful leaves that covered the forest floor made it obvious.
It was autumn and soon winter would cover Massachusetts in a white blanket of snow. It was a time of gathering and preparation. Around me, chipmunks and squirrels scolded; chittering at me as they collected food for their hibernation. My target was something a bit larger. I hunted the turkeys that lived in these woods. With the weight of my rifle in one hand, I carefully snuck along, in search of my own food.
Coming over a hill, I saw an outcropping of boulders. The ancient granite was dredged up by glaciers tens of thousands of years ago, but now they were gnarled by trees and covered in moss. As I studied my surroundings, I caught glimpse of my quarry.
A turkey, and a large one at that! The dull, brown plumage marked it as a female, and its size was impressive to say the least. It looked bigger than any store-bought bird. I mused about how many meals I would get out of the turkey as I leveled my sights on it.
But just then, it spring into action. Sensing me, the bird charged, bobbing and weaving erratically. Soon it was on top of me and I feared it would strike me with its spurs. Then, the unthinkable happened.
The turkey, turned around and lifted its tail-feathers, revealing a moist, dripping cloaca. The turkey's thick, powerful legs rippled with strength and invited me to the warm hole between. It quietly cooed as it waited for my action. Though no words were exchanged between us, we both shared an unspoken connection. In a moment of what could only be described as madness, I threw down my rifle and pulled down my pants.
The turkey backed up to me, pressing its