—Spirit of the outdoors—
‘Twas the night before Christmas when out in the woods, The stately Whitetail buck calmly stood.Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.And the buck stayed a long ways away from a house.Hunters were hiding up there in their blind, Dreaming of getting a shot yet, but only in their mind.The buck turned and looked, saw the hunters and booked.And they crie...
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