- --by Tyania
Tyania lifted the long barrel to her shoulder, head tilted to sight along the dull hued barrel. Before her, her dearest Syther hissed and clawed at one of the enemy Tauren of Stonetalon. His bold orange, red form flitting before the black Tauren's bulk erratically.
Control your breathing. Focus on the shot. When the moment is right. . She tells herself as the barrel smoothly levels and grows still. Gazing along the deadly weapon, she can see her beloved Syther struck. She feels a pang at the sight, but masters it. Remember..
"..Remember, young Farstriders.." Mistress Aletha allows her eyes to scan the half dozen young faces before her. "..you must take your shots with care, whether you wield the bow or the gun. Ours is a trade where a single misplaced shot can spell woe for our chosen companions."
She pauses, allowing the words to sink in. "The true marksmen aims with the eye, but shoots with the instinct. Let yourself be swayed by the moment to fire too soon and you will fail. Focus on the shot, let fly only when.."
..the moment is right. Tyania's finger tugs smoothly on the responsive trigger, her mind clear save for that patient instinctive urge. Now. The dormant rifle bucks and cracks out loudly. But she does not look to see the bullet catch the raging Tauren. She is already reloading as his left shoulder is struck, the bullet narrowly missing Syther's darting head. His body still rocking back as she lifts the loaded gun again, eyes narrowed thinly as she fires, feeling the tug of the marksman's instinct guide her shot again.. again..