James nearly silently walked through the forest, low to the ground in case bandits were near. The only sound he heard at the time was the crunching of fallen, dead leaves under his feet every now and then, and more rarely, some wildlife. That's when he saw a bird, specifically a pigeon. In James' eyes, this pigeon was dinner. He took out his .1911, and shot the bird, the sound of the gunshot muffled by his silencer. The bird fell off of it's branch, onto the ground. He then began to set camp up.

 He began sawing off branches of trees with his knife, and built a small wooden tent-like shelter. He then got some rocks and put them in a circle, putting dry leaves, dead grass, and other good types of tinder into the circle. He then threw about seven large twigs onto the pile of tinder, and took out his knife. He grabbed a small rock and began to repeatedly strike his knife against the stone, until one of the sparks that came off created a fire. He built a small structure to cook the bird on, and de-feathered the bird quickly. 

He stuck the now featherless bird onto a twig, setting it on top of the structure, letting the bird cook as the fire's flames licked it. He sat on an old log that had almost conveniently been placed near where his fire was, and he turned the bird every five minutes to ensure that each side was cooked good. After about ten minutes of cooking the bird, he took it off the twig and ate it, careful not to eat the bones, enjoying the first meal he had in a couple days. 

"There's nothin' like some good old bird meat when you're trying to survive alone..." he quietly said to himself.

What he didn't know was that there was a settlement nearby called Sanctuary, and the smoke from his campfire was quite visible to the people on the walls or outside of the walls.