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In some cultures, what I do is considered normal.
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Without conscious thought, Aislyn dropped to the ground at the sound of a gun’s retort. Sprawled in the slightly tacky grass, she tried to calm her breathing. The flat, metallic smell of the corpse’s blood filled her nostrils. It was not helping with the whole “let’s calm down” department.

When the second shot didn’t follow the first, she cautiously raised her head up, scanning to see if she could figure out where the shot came from. She could see light down in the bunker, probably from a flashlight just like the one in her bag.

Who ever fired the gun couldn’t be *that* stupid, could they? It was way too convenient. They just *happened* to turn their flashlight on, betraying their position? No way. It was a set-up. Whoever had the gun had to be prowling around, hoping that anyone else in the area was stupid enough to head towards the light.

Plan set in her mind, Aislyn slowly moved from her prone position, taking a knee. She threw the rock she’d carried since she’d found it on the mountain as hard as she could towards the light. Hopefully, it would smash the flashlight and throw off whoever was stalking the area.
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Birdland · The Greens