(no subject)

[backwoodsoldier.livejournal.com]

[He's gone out of his way to find an empty room - one with the door to his back.  A table is set up at the far end, with a lot of padding on the wall behind it. Bottles and cans litter the top, and Cloud is holding his rifle so tightly that one might think letting go would mean his death.

Stuffing bursts from the wall - a miss, followed by two more before the bottle finally shatters. Cloud exhales loudly and walks over to pick up the pieces of glass.]

Need to be steadier...