Upon gently placing it on the trigger, not even with immediate attention to shoot, Eduard's hand started to tremble. That was no good. He had to stop thinking. More accurately, not stop, but rather, dull himself, narrow his focus to the precise but limited scope of a pinhole camera. If he allowed himself to fully consider the situation, he'd fret over their supply levels and their chances of survival, and, paradoxically, he would miss. He remembered that much, even though he'd tried to put such feelings out of his mind while rebuilding his life after his last war. (A war- that's what he tried to think of this as to keep from giving up out of a sense of futility: not some impassive natural force slowly overtaking his citizens from the inside, but rather, a concrete enemy. Such conflict had never been kind to him, but he had a knack for enduring, surviving, and recuperating, or even escaping entirely when he was lucky. One can't fight and can rarely run from something abstract, a fact he used to take solace in.)
With a slow breath, he stilled himself and lowered his face to locate and aim at the head of the form that had been indicated. "Like this, right?"
With a slow breath, he stilled himself and lowered his face to locate and aim at the head of the form that had been indicated. "Like this, right?"
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