Of all the weapons she had to be given.
Mirei scowls at the gun. It's not exactly a threatening expression. She's small, has been small for a good number of decades now, and the metal object lacks anything remotely resembling sentience so it doesn't really care if she's glaring at it or not. (A sentient gun would probably be worse, she has a sentient sword.) Still though, she hates the thing, hates its barrel and its time of reloading bullets and its heavy weight in her little hands. She hates how obvious it is on her person, how clearly inexperienced she is.
She hates the unreliability of the gun.
Papa tells her she needs to know how as many weapons work as possible, if only so she can know how to counter them.
Still. She's not happy.
All she's doing is exploring an inactive volcano.
(Years, centuries even, will pass before she recognizes the absurdity of that statement.)
Supposedly someone fell here like a shooting star nights before.
Well, it can't hurt to check it out, right?
Even from this distance, she hears the sound of someone crying and she feels sick at it.
She forgets the gun at some point in the sand. No one comments.
A/N: I do believe a certain onix on fire told me things about a certain character in his universe living through a war? Well, guess what I did! Hope you like it man!
Challenges: Ultimate Sleuth 0.5 - write about the beginnings of an adventure! and Diversity Writing Challenge F44. write about family issues.