Firestorm
By SMYGO4EVA

Dorothea stared across the grass, eyes wide in shock. Sure, not every bullet found its mark, but the vast majority was embedded in the bull's-eye and the colored circles of the target. There were far too many to simply be beginner's luck.

Dorothea's skill with a gun came from years of practice, but this was an impressive start.

"Told you I'm a fast learner," Monica shrugged, setting the empty gun down. She was smiling, one eyebrow raised, not smug but still clearly enjoying the Knight of Four's surprise.

"That you did," Dorothea breathed, already mentally running through the ways she could improve the Knight of Twelve's stance, all the corrections that could lead to Monica being one hell of a markswoman in due time.

But the next lesson would have to wait. Because Dorothea found herself too preoccupied with pouncing on this amazing woman and Monica let out a yelp of laughter as they tumbled to the ground. Rolling together, lips pressed to lips, hands tangled through each other's hair, and the sweet firestorm scent in the air, marksmanship and weaponry were already forgotten for the day.