You are lying on a knoll there is something digging into your ribs and you can't get comfortable, the stalker hands you the rifle, and says take your time its not going anywhere.
You peer into the drizzle or scotch mist as the stalker had called it, in the meadow the stalkers term, though anything less like a meadow you can't imagine rough grass and thistles their seed heads bedraggled in this incessant drizzle, there are several odd shaped bracken covered humps, when you ask the stalker later he will tell you they are drumlins, that is deposits dumped by a glacier in the distant past.
You can just make out the rusty red flank of the stag stood in front of one of these humps, its outline blending in with the natural camouflage of bracken thats been subjected to the first frost of the year now a mixture of green, yellow ,red and brown.
How far you ask one hundred a fifty yards the stalker replies, you have a quick look with your range finder , and yes it is exactly one hundred a fifty yards, you would have sworn that it was much further.
No matter how much you change your position you just can't get comfortable besides there is a slight side slope and you have to adjust the legs of your bipod to compensate, mental note to yourself to buy the swivel version.
To make matters worse you can now feel a dampness seeping in around your waist where your jacket has ridden up in your efforts to get comfortable.
Eventually you feel this is as good as its going to get and you squeeze off a shot, you were low the stalker says shoot again, this time all you get is a grunt and a muttered again,
Whats wrong! you are starting to panic now and snatch off a third shot, how can it be you checked your rifle before travelling north, this is your first time stalking in the Highlands, but you have done plenty woodland stalking and never had any reason to doubt your accuracy until now.
That will do fine the stalker says you spread your shots a bit but any of them would have dropped a stag and I am happy enough.
Don't worry he says with a grin you are not the first nor will you be the last to experience buck fever when shooting at the Iron Stag.
Now lets go and see if we can find you a real one.