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"Look, Jim, it's either gonna be full of lead or shrapnel. So what's the difference?" Frank pitched in. "And I think Joe rode way up ahead. Hope he realized we stopped for the night... And that there's a loose lion."

"Look man all I want is for one of you self-professed 'gunslingers' to shoot this fucker quick and clean so we can eat something exotic. Is that so...much...to......." Jim began to slow his speech as he spotted it out of the corner of his eye. No mistake about it, something was in that brush. He quickly told everyone to stand still as they all got out some guns.
"Man who takes it down gets to keep the pelt." he said, inviting his unproven team to a little competition in the hope it might make things more interesting.
As it drew closer and it became clear that it was indeed a big cat, Jim wrapped his finger around the trigger, ready to take the lion's share, if anyone could excuse the cringey pun.

Dima's eyes shot over to the lion, and he swiftly but silently rose his rifle, aiming directly into the brutish beast's eye, before it slinked back into the brush, hiding its silhouette. Luckily from his raised position he was able to see the rustling of the grass and took a potshot at the front of said movement, hitting the beast right in the shoulder, not killing it but sure as hell wounding it and more importantly, slowing it down.

"ДАВАИ СУКА!" Dima shouted as he chambered the next round in his rifle and hopped onto his horse in case the beast tried to make a run for it.

Dima's eyes shot over to the lion, and he swiftly but silently rose his rifle, aiming directly into the brutish beast's eye, before it slinked back into the brush, hiding its silhouette. Luckily from his raised position he was able to see the rustling of the grass and took a potshot at the front of said movement, hitting the beast right in the shoulder, not killing it but sure as hell wounding it and more importantly, slowing it down.

"ДАВАИ СУКА!" Dima shouted as he chambered the next round in his rifle and hopped onto his horse in case the beast tried to make a run for it.

"What the fuck?" Jim shouted as the Lion failed to drop after a round right to the shoulder and ran right towards him
"Shit! Sue don't let me down!"
A single pull of the trigger and the bullet ripped through the circus escapee's leg, bringing the beast to a grinding halt as it slid into the brush, roaring in pain and struggling to get back up.
Panting and relieved, Jim took aim once again, looking at the crippled beast with a devilish, sadistic grin. His bloodlust evident to any who saw him.
"Come on, now! I expected a little more outta you!"
Grabbing a hot campfire poker, he moved closer to the beast.
"Now I don't like to be disappointed, so I'm gonna make things a little more interesting!"

Dima, seeing Jim getting closer to the beast, he figured now was the time for some real fun, put the rifle down and drew his short sabre from its sheath, planning on seeing how many lacerations the lion could take before it gave in. Slipping around the beast to the side as it watched Jim with the poker, he got two slashes into the cat's side before it spun around to retaliate. Dima managed to dodge a majority of the paw strike, but did get a healthy sized claw mark on the cheek. Dima responded with a strike to the eyes, and then jumped onto the lion's back, and finished it off with two stabs to the neck and a final evisceration. Sufficiently covered in blood especially after the last strike, Dima simply chuckled.
"Well my friends, its no shark, but I do believe dinner is served." He said with a charming yet bloodstained grin, not even noticing the 127mm (5 inches) long cut on his cheek. 

As his horse cantered up, Joe first saw a group of the gang knot up, then draw their weapons, followed quickly by two gunshots off into the woods.
That seemed like it might be a bit of a problem.
He put the spurs in on his horse (muttering an apology as he did, with the sole justification that clearly the situation was needful), and drew up just in time to see Jim reaching for a hot poker from the fire, with which he was going to do something that was probably incredibly stupid to the now-dying animal.
Joe merely unshouldered his rifle, still mounted, took aim, and shot the lion right where the heart would be if it were a cougar (since the two animals looked quite similar, he reckoned their anatomy should be too). The beast heaved once, twice, then collapsed. Good. Clean. And without too much damage to the pelt.
"No sense marking up the fur," he said, in a voice largely audible because of the sudden silence after the rifle's report.
Shouldering his rifle again, he gave his horse an apologetic pat for spurring it earlier, then dismounted and reached into his boot for a skinning knife. He'd prepare the meat later, but no sense getting any more blood on the pelt than there was already.

EDIT and OOC: oh well hell it looks like dima killed the lion already, what do
my fault for being a slow writer I suppose. and for not checking what someone had posted instead of just clicking 'post' again when the dialog box popped up

Dima, seeing Jim getting closer to the beast, he figured now was the time for some real fun, put the rifle down and drew his short sabre from its sheath, planning on seeing how many lacerations the lion could take before it gave in. Slipping around the beast to the side as it watched Jim with the poker, he got two slashes into the cat's side before it spun around to retaliate. Dima managed to dodge a majority of the paw strike, but did get a healthy sized claw mark on the cheek. Dima responded with a strike to the eyes, and then jumped onto the lion's back, and finished it off with two stabs to the neck and a final evisceration. Sufficiently covered in blood especially after the last strike, Dima simply chuckled.
"Well my friends, its no shark, but I do believe dinner is served." He said with a charming yet bloodstained grin, not even noticing the 127mm (5 inches) long cut on his cheek.

"God dammit Dima you fucking spoilsport! I was gonna make Jim Crow jump! But I tell you what, you can use this poker right here to seal up that kitten scratch he gave ya, seeing as you're the big bad ruskie warrior who ain't afraid of nothin"

As his horse cantered up, Joe first saw a group of the gang knot up, then draw their weapons, followed quickly by two gunshots off into the woods.
That seemed like it might be a bit of a problem.
He put the spurs in on his horse (muttering an apology as he did, with the sole justification that clearly the situation was needful), and drew up just in time to see Jim reaching for a hot poker from the fire, with which he was going to do something that was probably incredibly stupid to the now-dying animal.
Joe merely unshouldered his rifle, still mounted, took aim, and shot the lion right where the heart would be if it were a cougar (since the two animals looked quite similar, he reckoned their anatomy should be too). The beast heaved once, twice, then collapsed. Good. Clean. And without too much damage to the pelt.
"No sense marking up the fur," he said, in a voice largely audible because of the sudden silence after the rifle's report.
Shouldering his rifle again, he gave his horse an apologetic pat for spurring it earlier, then dismounted and reached into his boot for a skinning knife. He'd prepare the meat later, but no sense getting any more blood on the pelt than there was already.

EDIT and OOC: oh well hell it looks like dima killed the lion already, what do
my fault for being a slow writer I suppose. and for not checking what someone had posted instead of just clicking 'post' again when the dialog box popped up

"Fucking hell, Joe, he's already dead! Now let's dress this thing, eat that grouse, and get some shuteye. We got a big day tomorrow, and those yokel fucks best be hoping I ain't in a foul mood from being up longer than I need to be."

Dima chuckled and grabbed the poker.
"Thanks Boss" he said as he touched the blade to his face, giving out an audiable (but untranslateably as far as he was aware) curse as the loud hissing of the metal did a mild job of sealing the wound. Digging the poker into the ground, Dima grabbed a leg and a wing from the grouse and walked over to his "frakentent" and laid down in his bedroll, gnawing away at the limbs with his sharpened teeth.

Dima chuckled and grabbed the poker.
"Thanks Boss" he said as he touched the blade to his face, giving out an audiable (but untranslateable as far as he was aware) curse as the loud hissing of the metal did a mild job of sealing the wound. Digging the poker into the ground, Dima grabbed a leg and a wing from the grouse and walked over to his "frakentent" and laid down in his bedroll, gnawing away at the limbs with his sharpened teeth.

"Nothing like a fight to put a man to bed. See ya in the morning you layabouts. We got a full day of riding ahead of us!"
With that said, Jim laid down, his stomach full with grouse and lion, and slept the night away...

Frank shook his head at the strange turn of events and grabbed some grouse to eat. After licking the bones clean, he laid his head down to sleep.

What felt like minutes later, he awoke to the cawing of crows overhead. It was indeed morning, though overcast. Might rain today.

Frank walked to each of the others and kicked their boots to wake them up.

Dima woke up before Frank kicked his boots, and when the man did get around to it he responded by cursing and getting up, getting fully clothed, and walking over to his horse, petting it then getting right to packing up his tent, which he placed back into the cart. After this was done, Dima saddled his horse and just sat there while everyone else was going about their wake up routine.

Jim was sleeping through just about everything, until Dima startled his horse while saddling his own. Jim put almost the same value on his horse as he did his motorcycles, so when he heard it he immediately jumped up, only to see nothing of any consequence going on. He was tired as hell, so he rummaged through his saddlebags and found the instant coffee powder he'd bought back in town. It was labelled with an old US Army logo. The vender said thousands of pounds of the stuff were lying around in old warehouses that were made for troops on the frontlines in France, all the way back during the Great War. Jim doubted pretty highly that this stuff would be even remotely appetizing, but truth be told the caffeine was the only reason he drank the stuff to begin with, instant or no. After heating up the water over the campfire and stirring it, he chugged it like there was no tomorrow, mostly just to keep himself from spitting the 50 year old powder right back out. Staggering from the intensely disgusting taste, he got ready to leave this godforsaken midden heap once and for all.

Groggily looking over at Jim, Dima recoiled at the sight of the drink. "I'm impressed you can stomach that mud water Boss, especially one that looks as ancient as that." he said in sleepy amazement. Dima checked his saddlebag and took a sip out of his actual water canteen. "What I wouldn't give for a good cup of hot tea." Dima said dreamily. Leaning back in his saddle he scanned the horizon, noticing the overcast weather, then turned to Jim, "Hey Boss, when we finish up this job are we just heading back to the base or are we going to be doing another job right afterwards?"

Groggily looking over at Jim, Dima recoiled at the sight of the drink. "I'm impressed you can stomach that mud water Boss, especially one that looks as ancient as that." he said in sleepy amazement. Dima checked his saddlebag and took a sip out of his actual water canteen. "What I wouldn't give for a good cup of hot tea." Dima said dreamily. Leaning back in his saddle he scanned the horizon, noticing the overcast weather, then turned to Jim, "Hey Boss, when we finish up this job are we just heading back to the base or are we going to be doing another job right afterwards?"

"After we shake down this town we'll be headed south to meet with my uncle and the rest of his posse. He's got somethin special planned. That's all I know."