The time has come.
>An echoing *BOOM* shatters the quiet of the woods, followed quickly by a tinny *DING* of a metal can flipping off a wooden post and meeting the ground.
>"Wow Greene, guess you're not a horrible shot after all." Janet teased.
>"Yeah, I'd like to see you make a better shot from a thousand yards out." I fire back.
>The deer girl smirks, "I can do you one even better, fly boy."
>I groan at the nickname she's taken to calling me recently. My wings aren't even big enough to glide like mom.
>Despite all her ribbing, it was nice that my folks okay'd me and Jan going out on this weekend trip into the woods. A getaway from people aside from each other and being surrounded by the great outdoors.
>Mom was hesitant to let me out of her sight for so long but Dad was able to talk her into it, sold her on me having some independence, glad he went to bat for me.
>What I wasn't so glad about was when he slipped me a box of condoms when mom went into the other room. Embarrassed would be an understatement but he shushed me and told me that he understood, just "be safe about it." Eugh.
>Refocusing back on Janet, she goes prone and readies her rifle, her breathing evening out.
>She aims at something over my perforated target practice and—
>Bang! From out the trees falls a woodland critter that had been scampering above. A squirrel.
>"How about a moving target from a thousand yards away?" She smugly asserts with a shit-eating grin.
>"Damn your good aim." I cross my arms in defeat.
>Impressive doesn't do Janet justice, she's all skill. Better than me despite being around guns for about as long and in spite of my genetic advantage of predator eyesight, as "diluted" as it is as Cynthia calls it on account of being half-human. Fuck her.
cont.