Writing Dump?

Winters.

2 foot snow was being crushed beneath him while he walked further.

he held his rifle, having a firm grip on it. It wasn't easy walking 10 kilometers while there was snow all around you making a crunching sound whenever you stepped on it.

he exhaled slowly, seeing a gush of smoke come out his masked mouth as he walked further. Probably almost there.

Afterwards all the silence there was. He heard a few leaves rustling to his left. immediately— he put his gun up and pointed  at it cautiously walking to it as well.

He put his gun down cautiously and touched the shrub of thorns and a few leaves— seeing a small bunny there.

He stared at it in awe and went back to his original trekking to his friend's cottage out in the Norwegian forests he lived in.

after for quite a while of walking, he kind of noticed he passed by the same bush he opened earlier. The shrub of thorns and a few leaves. He didn't see any foot steps ahead of him to realize he was walking in circles.

forgetting his flashlight during the night winters is a horrible idea. Don't try it if you live out in the woods. He kept walking anyway.

he was just walking in circles at this point. He kept walking, and walking.

Then finally, stopping in tracks, frustrated and confused. Why is he going in an endless path with the same position of trees, the same shrub of leaves with an animal it it—.. the snow without visible footprints.

he sat down on the icy cold snow, frustrated and exhausted. He took out a cigarette and lit himself one to calm his senses down. Inhaling and Exhaling slowly.

While he sat there, he looked into the distance, noticing that it's getting a little distorted there. Maybe it's just his eyesight.

He looked up into the inky night sky. Seeing all of the stars, surrounding us. Admiring all of the gorgeous constellations, shining above him.

He just waited there until something would happen. Or just him doing something— I guess.