You can't help but think ahead to the black iron skillet, some olive oil mixed with butter, coarse black pepper, freshly ground, and kosher salt, some morels browning, and then the backstrap rolled in and cooked so quickly, seared on the outside and then taken out, the radiant heat of that brief time in the skillet continuing to cook the backstrap for a few minutes longer after it's been put on the plate, the sear holding the juices in, maybe with some garlic-and-cream mashed sweet potatoes to absorb some of those juices, and then another, more delicate knife, cutting into the hot meat, and the juices coming out, and the steam—Focus. The best thing maybe is that there's no hurry. This is what you'll be doing today, and the meat, the work of the day, will last all year if you use it right, for the best meals, the meals of ceremony and greatest gratitude. You want to do a good job. You want to do a job that in some way acknowledges the finality of the decision you made earlier in the hunt.