HE fawn lifts her head, giving me a look of detached curiosity, her eyes like two glistening blackberries. No pain yet—that’s good. I will her to keep very still and say a silent prayer for her as I quietly line the bead up with the middle of her forehead and squeeze the trigger. She is gone before my brain has even registered the shot through my ear defenders, leaving only a bundle of rags by the side of the
