This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Short-Advantage-6354 on 2026-05-15 01:17:04+00:00.

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I knew from a very young age I didn’t like hunting. I could never really imagine myself actually harming an animal. And, to give credit where it’s due, my father did respect it for the most part.

In lieu of the hunting trips he took my other siblings on, he opted for a more natural walking situation. In my mind, he knew everything there was to know about animals, so us going on these little trips would help me learn more about the same animals that my siblings were learning about, just in different ways.

We would sit in his crummy little hunting tent with a couple nature/wildlife books, and I would sit with one open in my lap as we scanned the nearby forest for any animal we could identify.

One of said nature walks happened during a cold front in late october, with little me bundled tight in a bearskin blanket in an attempt at keeping the frost away from my fingers. Father was seated on his camping chair, little tufts of smoke emanating from the lit embers of his cigar as he watched the outside of the tent.

He always took his hunting rifle when we went in the forest, no matter the occasion. He swore he’d never make me shoot it unless necessary, but claimed that simply having it on him made him feel safer by association.

He stared out of the tent for a while as I flipped through the book, tugging the blanket tighter around me to keep the wind out. Something had caught his attention, making him sit up a little bit in his seat and tip the rifle in his direction.

“Dad?”

He didn’t answer.

“Dad-” I try again before he reaches over and shoves my head down with a hiss. The leaves crunch under us as we hit the ground, my father’s big arms wrapping around me to hide me from sight.

“Quiet.” He whispers, one hand firmly holding me down as he slowly sits up to grab his rifle; using the opportunity to take another look outside of the tent. “I just- I think I saw something.”

“Like a bear?

“No…like a rabbit.”

“What?”

I tried to sit back up to no avail, my father’s hand keeping me planted squarely against the floor. I was, however, able to turn over onto my back and look up at him. He was staring straight ahead, out of the opening of the tent as he cocked his rifle back.

“That…it doesn’t look right.”

“What do you mean, dad?”

“I- grab your book.”

He moved his hand to let me sit up, said hand moving to push my head down to avoid it going too high. I reach over and grab the book, opening it and sitting it on my lap.

“Flip over to the prey chapter. The one with the picture of the rabbit you like.”

I obeyed, fingering through the chapters until coming across the two page spread I was obsessed with; depicting a Flemish Giant.

“Ok, now what?”

“Look at the eyes, babygirl.”

“What?”

“Rabbit eyes don’t face front, do they?”