Dean waited for the echoed boom of the shotgun to stop bouncing back to him from the trees before he walked forward, picking up the empty shells. Maybe John wouldn't have cared for him wasting powder this way, but the fact was, after the ups and downs of the last month Dean needed the release, and there weren't any bars on the island he could go
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"What the hell are you shooting?"
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"Just some empty cans," he said, raining slicking down his neck as he angled his face out of the rain. "I was...gonna give them back?"
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"Mm, what'd those cans ever do to you?" she asked, wondering the purpose. She hadn't thought Dean would need practice, but maybe it was a skill that got rusty as any other. Even if it did just seem to her a simple aim and trigger pull.
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"What?" he asked. "You never wanted to make some noise?"
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He let the gun spin barrel down with one finger in the trigger, holding it out to her.
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"You'll have to show me how."
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"C'mere. I'll show you how to hold it first, then we'll load it and let you take a shot."
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She tried to hold the gonne as she'd seen him, but knew it wasn't right.
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"How do I aim?"
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She wanted to know how to shoot it. She didn't know why, when she thought about it no answer came, she only knew she did. Maybe that was part of the power it had, even if Vimes said it was different here.
Angua shifted to look back at Dean, doing her best to ignore the rain and the cold it brought. "Am I ready to load it?"
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"Line up your target with one eye," he told her. "Right over the top of the barrel."
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