(Untitled)

[nonplayers]

Characters: Everyone!
Setting/Location: Fort Hood
Date & Time: Day 48, one hour until sunrise.
Warnings: Violence! Language?
Summary: The Battle begins! Werewolves, Koda has asked you to return to the Fort as a "favor" - problem is, with the moon as full as it is now, you'll turn almost immediately as you leave the cover of the forest - directly

Comments

[brb_napping]

[While doing his best to take out as many targets as he could safely, with what ammunition he had, the Rookie kept an eye on the man close-by, who was handling himself fairly well for a civilian. It was obvious Arthur knew at least a bit about guns, but as it was, he didn't have the same precision in his aim and in his choice of targets as what could be expected from a soldier.

Still, he was doing fairly well, all things considered. The Rookie was worried, though; the last time he had seen Arthur handling a weapon, the man had shot himself - and that on purpose. He had promised Sgt. Weller to keep an eye on Arthur, after all, and see if there were any lasting effects of that wound that should have been fatal, or whatever treatment had healed him, literally brought him back from the dead.

Taking a brief break from shooting, the Rookie reloaded his weapon, then threw Arthur another clip of ammunition. He didn't like this, didn't like that there was a bunch of civilians here, armed, and forced to organise in some kind of rag-tag troop to fight for the fort's survival, and he especially didn't like that this man was armed again, but it couldn't be helped. They needed every man available. Nonetheless, that didn't mean he didn't occasionally throw another glance at Arthur, letting it linger just a bit too long, carefully observing not only his status, but also his behaviour.]

[specificities]

[ He caught the ammo with ease when he saw the throw from the corner of his eyes, nodding. ]

Thanks.

[ He released the empty magazine from the rifle, sliding the new clip into place and notching it. If he had to give the Marshal any credit, whomever designed their guns knew what they were doing. It wasn't as bulky as he had been expecting, considering most of the weaponry he'd witnessed so far had been little more than rudimentary, well, crossbows. He could still feel Rookie's eyes on him, though, and tilted his head towards him briefly though he kept his eyes on the field, leaning over slightly to take a gander at the state of the East wall. ]

I'm not going to turn; haven't been bitten.

[ He figured that was the reason for all of the, well, staring. ]

[brb_napping]

[ When the Rookie realised that Arthur's words were supposed to be an answer to his stare, he shook his head, throwing a glance at the other man in between firing at the wolves and reloading, to make it clear that he was directing this gesture at Arthur. ]

[ When he had a brief moment because the situation seemed to clear up for a second, he patted the pistol strapped to his side, then pointed at Arthur, and pulled up his shoulder and hand in a quizzical shrug to indicate his question. ]