Being in the middle of December, it was cold, but like all hunters do, we make sacrifices. In preparation for sitting across the field for countless hours until the buck came out, we strapped on each and every layer of camouflage we owned. There we were, two Brandenburg puff balls walking through the unknown wheat field. We became a short one hundred yards away from the last area we saw my buck, and became still and silent, waiting for him to come out for a bite to eat.
While the time passed, another whitetail became very curious and almost blew our cover when he blew out of there just ten yards away.
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