Nekopara fanfic

Chapter 42 & 43

Vanilla and I decided to go on a trip to visit another town for the holidays.

(I just realized it's probably really confusing to try and keep track of what season it is, and I thought of a way to make it much more simple. Unless otherwise specified the season is spring. Get it? Got it? Good.) 

I decided to do some shopping, I pulled out my phone and found what I was looking for. I bought it and paid quite a bit extra to get it shipped within the day. About 30 minutes later I heard the doorbell ring. I answered it. "Package for Qrow Branwen." The postman said. "Wow, that was fast," I said, taking the package. I opened it up and pulled out the item. It was a cane sword, about 3ft long. I grabbed my assortment of guns and a box of ammunition for each, just in case, as well as my sword cane, and stuck them all in their specific places, and got some small suitcases packed with about a week's worth of spare clothes. I grabbed a hair tie and brought my hair back into a braid, so my hair went from almost brushing the ground, to ending at my waist. I stuck the suitcases in the trunk and Vanilla hopped in the passenger seat. I closed the trunk and got in. I started the car. Vanilla turned ghost white. "Damn, I thought your motorcycle was loud, that scared the hell out of me," Vanilla said as her color started to come back. "Oh you haven't heard loud yet, try driving, or firing a tank, and THEN we can talk about loud," I said with a snicker, apologizing for not warning her. I pulled out a small battery powered CD player and a small speaker and taped it to the dashboard just so it wouldn't go anywhere. (I'll admit I almost made the mistake of thinking a car made in 1969 had a CD slot, CDs weren't commercially made until 1982.) I popped in a CD I got when I was in America in the military. (Insert some Brantley gilbert song here) "I don't understand the lyrics, but the song sounds nice," Vanilla said as I hummed along to the song. "It's in American English, so I'm not surprised you don't understand it," I said. I reached the stoplight and quickly pulled out my phone, pulling up a web page with the lyrics and translating them into Japanese, handing my phone to Vanilla. "It all seems to be songs about either God or trucks and women." Vanilla said. "Yeah, that'd be a pretty accurate summarization of American country music," I said, laughing. I put on my aviators and rolled down my window and Vanilla rolled hers down as well. I flipped a small switch (or button) on the dashboard and the roof began to fold itself up. I turned up the music to cover the sound, as it could be quite an irritating sound. It finished lowering and the light turned green. I turned onto a highway and we were driving along the road when I noticed a deer hop into the road. It was far too close to stop. I plowed into the deer. It was knocked a few feet and I pulled over my car. I dragged the deer off of the road, it was pouring blood. I quickly examined it, the deer wasn't breathing or moving, but its heart was still beating. I called a police officer. He drove up and I talked with him. "Its ribs are turned to gravel and its lungs collapsed. Shall I just shoot it and make venison out of it? I have a permit to take it, but should I put it out of it's misery and take it home, or do I have to let animal control do that?" I asked. "If you have the permit to take it, then I won't stop you, it's clearly going to die, so go ahead." He said. "Okay then, thanks for your help," I said. "Did it damage your car? Turning its ribs to gravel like that must've..." He said, looking at my car. "Custom made that bumper guard, kept my car safe, and is likely what collapsed the poor thing's lungs, at least it'll be tasty when we bring it home," I said. I walked over to my car and turned it off. I removed the key from the ignition and unlocked the glove box. I grabbed my .44 Magnum and loaded a round into it. The police officer wrote down a record of what happened. "Cover your ears," I warned Vanilla. The cop put in some earplugs while Vanilla folded her ears to her head. I shot the deer in the head and it was put out of its misery. I stuck my revolver back in the glove box and the cop left. I cut open the deer and grabbed some rope. I left my trench coat in the car with Vanilla and took off my shirt and gloves as well. I strung it up by its back legs so it was hanging from a tree so I could go through the process of butchering it. I finished most of the process, then skinned the deer. I cleaned off the hide and rolled it up, sticking it in the trunk of my car, I finished the process and it was getting colder. I decided we didn't have time to bother with aging the meat yet. Someone was driving by when they stopped. They got out of the car and came over to me. "What are you doing?" The man asked. "Butchering a deer," I said. "Speaking of which I could use some help. If you can buy me a cooler and come back here I can give you some extra cash and it would be a big help." I said. "Sure, I could use a bit more pocket money. How big?" He asked. "Just a normal sized one will do thanks," I said. He drove off and came back with a cooler. "Thank you very much," I said, handing them some cash. "No problem." He replied. He drove off and I finished butchering the deer and stuck all the useable meat in the cooler and left what wasn't useable. I sawed off the antlers and then hopped back into the car.