Hunting was different. Hunting was all about strategy, skill, and a little luck. Steve could spend hours in the same spot just waiting for a doe to come along. He didn't mind the blood that spilt from animals, because it always had a reason. Food, pelt, antlers, population control... Steve didn't just kill an animal and throw it away. When it came to war, however, he was obnoxiously nervous. He didn't want to kill a person. He wasn't going to eat a person, and that person's body would just get tossed away. It was a waste. If there was a meaning, like said person was dying from an infected wound, or they had an incurable disease, or they were attacking him, Steve would be okay with it. But with this war, Steve realized it was a lot of pointless killing. From both sides. That made him nervous with fear.
Steve was shocked when Michael pulled him into a room and a million things went through his mind. Why hadn't he just taken the gift? Was he going to punch him? Who knew, when it came to Michael. Steve merely blinked as he processed Michael's question. "No," he admitted in a level tone. He hadn't been sure of anything since he'd suggested this deal. "But I'm not leaving here with it, so I guess it's your choice now." The words out of his mouth surprised Steve, but he was glad he had said them. He hadn't gone through all of this just to go home and pretend like none of it had ever happened.