"Every time. Every. TIME!" she snarled as she tugged herself of her ink trail. It had been gut instinct that landed her back right as someone's bomb exploded in front of her and she was thankful that she still had those instincts at all. Her pointed ears were still ringing and she had to shake her head to get the stars out of her eyes. She knew she had to move, she couldn't stay still for too long. But where were her teammates?

The sound of a charger priming over the chaos of the turf war made her ear perk and she threw herself to the side to dodge the shot. Years of combat training baked into her body kicked in and she tucked into a quick roll before she sprung up into a dead sprint. Tossing a shuttle mine ahead of her, she let it run itself out before she dove into the trail it had left behind. But that only got her so far before another shot plinked off the ground right in front of her and she was forced to jump out of the ink and back behind a nearby bunker.

She knew there wasn't enough time left in the match to catch her breath and regroup, but the other team had her on lock and their charger had been gunning for her since the word go. It was getting under her skin just how effectively they were keeping her pinned down one lane and she was starting to get the feeling that it wasn't some inkling scrub getting lucky she was dealing with. No, this pressure felt familiar and that made it all the more irritating.

"Moira, where are you!" She jerked her head in the direction of her captain and she tried to shout back, but another shot pinged off the can and forced her back against it for shelter.

"Nowhere helpful! Where are you!" shouted back the octoling. "Their charger has me pinned! Could really use an assist on this one!"

"Sure, I'll help ya!" Moira's gaze snapped to her right as an inkling launched himself out of a nearby puddle of mint ink, his sploosh-o-matic tucked against his shoulder. "Help ya back to yer spawn!"

She was moving before her brain realized what was going on, her guns forgotten on the ink-splattered floor. It took all of a breath for her to shift her weight properly, but she knew the distance and she knew the weapon. As soon as he pulled the trigger, she vanished into the remains of her ink puddle beneath a rapid hail of ink. But she didn't stay there for long.

"Gonna hide in yer ink? Fat chance." Pointing his gun down at her, he figured that it was a quick, simple notch on his gun. But before he could force her back to her spawn, she threw herself into his stomach as hard as she could.

"If you're going to take me out, you're gonna have to earn it!" she snarled as the two of them slid across the floor in a mess of mint and pink ink. When they came to a stop, her fist was on him in a flash, aiming blow after blow on any unguarded part of his body she could reach.

But her assault didn't last. Her ears perked as a sound she had become familiar with over the last few minutes washed over her senses. Lifting her head from the unlucky inkling, she turned her lavender gaze in the direction of the charger's perch. And in that moment, she could see the glint of the spotlights off of their splatterscope. But more importantly, she could see the person behind it. Their eyes locked across the expanse of the chaos and she jabbed her finger at the inkling; a wordless challenge.

And the answer was a shot to her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Appendix

(The first instance of a word in the appendix will be bolded. All terms in the appendix, unless stated otherwise, will be paintball terminology.)

Bunker: An object on the field used for cover or shelter, such as inflatables, barrels, tires, etc.

Can: A term used to describe a paintball bunker which look like a cylinder, often referred to as a 'soda can' or a 'stand up' bunker.