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I inquired. "Sheila thinks that you are interesting, and most of my sisters agree with her assessment." Seraina blew on her cup to cool it before taking another sip. I wanted to know how Sheila's mind worked. I had to take a page out of Hardcore the Dos Equis beer advertising campaign and become The Most Interesting Man in the World, not bloody likely if being exciting was keeping me alive. Despite several days' worth of unshaven stubble, I wasn’t a bearded, debonair gentleman like the seventy-eight-year-old actor Jonathan Goldsmith, whom legend says can speak Russian in French. "So the women of the Society of Sisters are okay with me?" I licked my lips with cautious hope. "Most of them don't seem to mind; you're a welcome diversion from the daily routine, but a couple of the gals really hate men and told Sheila that they'll assassinate you if you remain at Liberty cum Mountain." Seraina took my hand in hers and held it tight, "Don't worry about it; probably just wild talk." Crazy talk or not, I didn't like the idea of being on someone's hit list, even an imaginary list. “Forewarned is forearmed,” as asian my grandfather used to say. Seraina's news did nothing to improve my disposition. Cabin fever and paranoia are real buzzkills. A change of scenery seemed to help whenever I’d get in a funk. I glanced around our shelter; the tent sides sagged in rumpled creases, stray pine needles littered the plastic floor, and the place looked like a dump. "Screw it! Let's get some sleep and see if we can kill something with legs for dinner in the morning." I doused the light and rolled over and went to sleep. Maybe eight hours of slumber would reset my attitude. "Wake tits up, honey." Seraina gently shook me out of a pleasant dream involving vast quantities of double bacon cheeseburgers and coffee milkshakes. I groaned. I was stiff, sore, and felt like a fleet of garbage trucks had used me as a parking lot. My mouth tasted like something had died in it. All my moving parts hurt; just another shitty day in paradise. Bright morning sunshine and scattered clouds greeted us as we emerged from the abandoned gold mine. Eighteen inches of fresh powder covered the ground and blanketed the trees. Several black dots were traveling across the valley in the distance. We were in luck; the deer herd was active and searching for food. Rifles in hand, we set out for the grove of amateur Evergreen trees and hopefully a rendezvous with dinner. The trick to walking through drifts is to knock enough of the snow down with your hands, knees, and upper body so that you can lift your leg high enough to take a step forward. Every few steps of advancement required us to take turns breaking the trail. We reached our goal after about an hour of slogging. I was drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted, and chilled to the bone. Our hunting gear was about as waterproof as a screen door and did nothing to stop snow from sneaking in around the edges of our clothing. I set about hacking tree branches down. "Building a fire in a hunting blind is not a good idea," Seraina said. Frank did a double take and looking at her keenly asked, “Were those perhaps for me?” I asian giggled tits a cum bit and opened my legs but stood my beer bottle in front of my pussy. With hard and fast and long strokes. I stood under the hot stream again until I felt the water cooling off. She was asian, cute looking, smart, and a loving personality. I was half tempted Hardcore to go down and join them but thought I should leave them alone for the rest of the night. The first one was the amateur 51 year old cook cum helper Satish and the second one was Rajesh's 18 year old son Ajay. “Um, ok I see the issue. Jane had started to crawl away, grabbed her ankle. On the other hand, if they were stealing nine hundred-dollar items we had a decision to make.