I slung my gun over my back and ran, following the trail of crimson he had left behind for me.  I had so much excitement flowing through me I couldn’t help but keep screaming, “I got him. Oh my God, I got him!”  When I found him, he was upside down, panting and staring at me, all the fight had left him; death slowly creeping over him.  I walked up to him, still feeling exhilarated, and put my hand on his neck and said, “Thank you, thank you God!”
I pulled out my knife, felt its rough grip, then put it back in the sheath.  This deer was too beautiful to ruin it by slitting its throat, so I just sat there and watched as the life slowly faded away from his eyes, feeling slightly sorrowful for him.  When my dad saw me with this deer, the overjoyed and ecstatic look on his face told me he was proud.  After my dad made it to the deer, we gutted him, as the fresh blood spilled causing crimson to cover my hands, arms, and face.  I looked like I belonged in a crime show. 
I saw my brother coming clumsily through the colorful woods, and upon seeing me with the deer announced, “Darn, well at least you got him, I guess.”  I could tell he was furious though.  Then he asked with a depressed look on his face, “Are you sure I didn’t hit him?”
“Yes, I’m the only one who hit him,” I assured him as I energetically pointed out where I shot him.
After we took him up to the house, I decided that day was the best day of my life.  I learned how important patience is and how it can apply to everything.