Eleven Pipers - Neil
His scope was steady, it had always been.
Bright light filtered out across the snow, full of the dancing shadows of a boisterous holiday party on the other side of tinted seasonal glass.
Neil could hear the twelve pipers across the empty distance, and for a moment his breath drew in. For a moment he remembered that once, a long time ago, he'd been the little shadow of a child running along the glass. His grip tightened and he released the wayward breath slowly. That child had stopped running long ago. So long.
The pull was smooth, the recoil sent to his seasoned shoulder.
Tonight there would be one less piper.