Deer hunter

It's restless skin flickers and twitches to the touch of the worrying flies. Every hair and detail, the sheen of sweat and the raised purple puckered scars from many battles. All crystal clear and so close I felt, that if l reached out, l would feel the rippling muscles of it's flanks. But l was more than 100 meters away, downwind and slightly down hill. With the crosshairs of my telescopic sights pointing right where the large beating heart would be.
My own heart seemed to surge, like it was trying to get away; or beat out a warning to my prey. This is the one every one down at the pub talks about, the one no ones managed to take. And now here he is dead in my sights.
There's a small noise as my finger increases pressure on the trigger. Not much but the giant Male Stag looks up from his grazing instantly, opening up his chest to me and looking directly at me with his large brown eye.
My whole body contracts in on itself, anticipating that explosive moment. With my breath held I squeeze, and CLICK l got him.
I can tell straight away as l check the image on the lcd screen. This photo's going on the front page of the National Geographic for sure.