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Avg = Avg gym-doer
Speed:
Peak:
Sprint: 27.8-29 mph (44.74-46.67 kph).
Sustained: 15-16 mph (24.14-25.75 kph).
Avg:
Sprint: 10-12 mph (16.09-19.31 kph).
Sustained: 6-8 mph (9.66-12.87 kph).
Reflexes:
Peak: 0.1-0.15 seconds (100-150 ms).
Avg: 0.2-0.25 seconds (200-250 ms).
Strength:
Peak: Deadlift: 1,102-1,200 lbs (499.86-544.31 kg). ////Bench: 782-800 lbs (354.71-362.87 kg). ///Grip: 200-224 lbs (90.72-101.60 kg).
Avg: Deadlift: 200-300 lbs (90.72-136.08 kg). ////Bench: 135-225 lbs (61.23-102.06 kg)./// Grip: 100-120 lbs (45.36-54.43 kg).
Senses:
Hearing:
Peak: 100-300 ft (30.48-91.44 m).
Avg: 20-50 ft (6.10-15.24 m).
Sight:
Peak: 20/8 (~2-3 miles, ~3.22-4.83 km).
Avg: 20/20 (~1-2 miles, ~1.61-3.22 km).
Smell:
Peak: 100-200 ft (30.48-60.96 m).
Avg: 20-50 ft (6.10-15.24 m).
Elias (Pre-Hunt, Day 1):
Speed: ~5-6 mph (average 13-year-old base).
Reflexes: ~0.2-0.3 seconds (normal human base).
Strength: ~50-60 lbs lift (typical kid muscle).
Senses: Normal (standard hearing, sight, smell).
"Coyote (Typical): Speed: ~25-30 mph (burst speed).
Reflexes: ~0.1-0.15 seconds (predator instinct).
Strength: ~20-30 lbs bite force.
Senses: Acute (hears ~100 yards, smells ~1 mile).
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A thin layer of snow covers the fields of the Voss farmstead, crunching under Elias's boots as he leaves the barn. His breath comes in short bursts as he examines the new knife from his thirteenth birthday; a six‐inch piece of honed steel, a gift from Daniel.
He has grown leaner over the past year of hard work splitting wood and setting traps. His patched coat, sewn by Mara last fall fits him well. The leather ward pendant Mara gave him rests against his chest, and the Latin prayer book in his pocket reminds him of the fight a year ago.
The farm is quiet, with fresh salt lines on the porch and the barn's claw marks from last winter now softened by frost.
He is hauling a sack of feed to the coop when Daniel calls from the porch."Elias; drop that and come over here."
Elias turns, squinting against the low sun, and sees Daniel standing there with a deer rifle in hand.
The bolt-action rifle, worn but recently oiled is familiar. Daniel steps down, his boots crunching in the snow."You're thirteen now," Daniel says in a low voice, extending the rifle. "A coyote has been bothering the chickens in the north woods past the creek. Go track it, kill it, and bring it back, alone."
The words carry a weight of expectation. Elias accepts the rifle; its weight is different from the shotgun he is used to. His stomach tightens but he feels a surge of determination.
Mara follows Daniel out with her rifle slung over her shoulder. She comes to stand beside Elias."Keep your knife and the pendant with you," she instructs, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Coyotes are fast and dangerous when cornered. Use the knife if you need to. We're close by if you need help."
Elias nods and adjusts the rifle over his shoulder and tucks the knife into his belt."I'll manage," he replies quietly.
Mara gives his shoulder a brief squeeze before leaning against the rail. "I still think it's early for you to hunt alone," she says softly so Daniel can hear.
Daniel with his arms crossed simply replies, "It's time." Mara then looks at Elias without further comment.
Daniel then directs,"Let's see if you can handle this first." He gestures toward a stump about fifty yards away with a rusted tin can balanced on top.
Elias follows, his steps firm on the snow as he grips the rifle. Daniel stands by the stump and explains,"The bolt is stiff. Work it smooth. The sight is a little off so aim a bit to the right. You only get five shots, so make each one of them count."
Elias nods and slowly raises the rifle, feeling the cold stock against his cheek. He fires—crack—and the can remains in place with snow puffing around it.
Daniel comments,"Your shot was too high. Adjust your aim."
Elias fires another shot—crack—and the can wobbles but holds. He tightens his jaw as the recoil hits him. He fires a third time—crack—and the can spins off, clattering into the snow. He lowers the rifle to catch his breath.
Daniel nods in approval."Better. Now, two more shots to go. And stay steady."
Elias fires twice more; each shot grazes the stump's edge sending small splinters flying. Daniel gives a brief pat on the back. "Good enough. You won't be shooting cans out there after all."
By noon, the farm is behind him as Elias heads north. His boots sink into the snow as he walks into the silent, bare forest. He follows the tracks, but at a frozen stream, they suddenly vanish.
His stomach tightens with worry; had he lost them? He scans the area until he finds a tuft of fur caught on a thorn bush. Relieved, he continues.
About thirty yards ahead, he sees the coyote. Lean and gray, it moves near a frozen stream with its ears twitching and tail held low.
Elias stops, his heart pounding and slowly raises the rifle, careful with his aim. He remembers Daniel's advice: take a clean deliberate shot. The coyote notices him, its eyes fixed and its lips curling in a snarl.
Elias fires—crack—and the shot hits, blood spreading along the animal's flank as it twists and stumbles into the snow.
Elias quickly moves forward while drawing his knife. His pulse races as he nears the wounded coyote which is still breathing and baring its teeth. After a brief hesitation, he slashes with the knife, his action swift and sure. The wound deepens and he watches as the coyote's life fades.
He mutters quietly, "It's this again" trying to understand the feeling that rushed through him with an odd mix of calm determination and wonder.
The journey back is slower with the coyote hanging over his shoulder, its weight a reminder of the hunt. The cold feels different now. It feels less harsh and more like a part of his routine.
At the barn, Daniel is splitting logs. He straightens when he sees Elias and grins."Clean kill, and good shot kid," he says with genuine pride.
Mara steps out, her hands in her coat pockets, and asks,"How did it go out there?"
Elias shifts the coyote's weight and replies,"It was quiet until the end. I almost lost it when it saw me."Daniel nods."That means you stayed steady. What did you feel when it went down?"
Elias pauses and flexes his fingers."It just felt... right. Like I had it."
Mara studies him for a moment before saying,"The first solo hunt always leaves an impression. Let's get it skinned."
Inside, the hearth is warm and the stew smells of salt and smoke. Daniel cleans the rifle while Elias sits whittling with his knife, which now moves more smoothly.
Mara sets the bowls on the table and asks gently,"You seem quieter tonight. What's on your mind?"
Elias, working on a half-carved stick, replies,"Maybe it's just how the woods felt today."
She nods and adds, "Your first solo hunt changes you a bit. Now, eat up."