The sunshine cascaded through the fluffy clouds and heated the land creating the perfect summer's day blue sky. It was the kind of day were if you were to lie in a grassy spot and simply stare up at the infinity of cyan above you, you could almost believe that you could fall off the planet and into the wild blue yonder.

Carmelita loved these kinds of days. She always had been an outdoors kind of person, and hated being cooped up on rainy days. However, even without the sunshine, the clouds that sort-of-looked-a-bit-like-people and the endless blue sky, today was rather special.

"Okay sweetie, just level the sights at the target..."

Carmelita squeezed the plastic handle so hard her hands went numb.

"Try to breathe steadily, that way it won't throw off your aim..."

She closed one eye and looked down the sights of the short black gun. Ten feet away from her a tin can seemed to wobble about erratically.

"And when you're ready, pull back on the trigger, gently as you can."

Carmelita froze. She closed her eyes for a second. In that moment there was just herself and her goal, everything else melted away. She squeezed the trigger. The top slide of the gun jolted back but Carmelita hardly felt it. All at once time snapped back to the present. A tiny nick appeared in the fence underneath the can. Carmelita hung her head.

"Ohh, never-mind sweetie- that was close!" Her father said to her encouragingly.

"I'll never get it Dad!" Carmelita moaned. "My aim's all wobbly."

"You'll get better," her father promised. "It just takes practice, that's all. Everyone's aim is wobbly to begin with."

Carmelita looked up at her Dad. He was smiling down at her, wearing his white t-shirt and blue denims that was typical for his day off. He had an almost empty can of beer hanging in his hand. Carmelita herself was also wearing a white t-shirt, but instead of jeans she wore a standard pair of sports shorts. She had resisted all of her mother's attempts to get her into dresses, and on the rare occasions when she was forced into them, Mrs. Fox quickly discovered that Carmelita's penchant for tree climbing, bug collecting and grass rolling tended to proclaim all but the hardiest garments non survivors. So t-shirt and shorts it was. Mr. Fox was delighted at his daughter's tomboyish behavior, and like all men quickly set about making things worse.

"Tell you what," Mr. Fox said, finishing his beer, "Why don't you have another go? Here..." he balanced his empty can carefully on top of the one on the fence. "Make the target a little bigger for you."

Carmelita waited for her Dad to back away from the cans on the fence before she raised the gun again. This time she didn't bring it up to her eye; she just raised the gun enough to shoot. There was no slow down this time, and she felt none of the pressure that she had the first time. She saw the cans fly off the fence and heard the loud crack of pellets on tin in gloriously fast motion.

"Wow! Way to go sweetie!" Her father hollered. Carmelita performed an excited little jump.

"It's easier if you don't aim at all, Daddy! There isn't time for your aim to get wobbly!"

"Well, that's certainly one way of doing it, sweetie..." Mr. Fox reasoned as he scooped up his daughter in his arms. He held her so her face was level with his. "In fact, there's a word for what you did. It's called 'shooting from the hip'. Cowboys used to do it all the time."

"They did?"

"Yeah. See, when the cowboys were having a duel there wasn't time to aim, they just had to point and shoot and hope for the best."

"D'you think I'd make a good cowboy, Dad?" Carmelita asked.

"You would've made a great cowboy. 'Cept you'd've been a cowgirl." Mr. Fox said as touched Carmelita's nose with the tip of his finger. Carmelita giggled.

"Joshua!" A shrill cry rang out behind the father and daughter.

"Uh-oh," Mr. Fox said under his breath as he lowered Carmelita to the floor.

From the house behind them a woman strode out purposefully, with an unfriendly look on her face. The house was a large-ish detached house with whitewashed walls and red shutters on the windows. It was a rural area they were in, the land usually lush, though they were in the middle of a heat wave at the moment, so the land was dustier than usual. The house showed this, as it's entire left hand side had been darkened by detritus blown by the wind.

"Joshua Fox, I hope I didn't just catch you showing our little girl how to shoot BB guns!"

"I hope you didn't too, sweetheart." Mr. Fox said cheerfully. Mrs. Fox scowled at him. "Look, it's ok Marie, I've been with her here the whole time, and I've told her she must only ever shoot at cans."

"I despair. Soon you'll be having her think that these things are good-"

"They're cool Mummy, can I get one?" Carmelita chipped in.

"Thank you Joshua." Mrs. Fox stated.

"Oh come on now..."

"Carmelita," Mrs. Fox said crouching down to her daughter. "I think you're old enough to hear this now. Daddy is a stupid stupid man, and you shouldn't really listen to anything he says, ok sweetie?"

Mr. Fox smiled an irritated smile.

"But I love Daddy..." Carmelita said to her mother.

"Ha!" Mr. Fox exclaimed. Mrs. Fox shot her husband a sharp glance.

"I know sweetheart, I love him too, but he's still stupid. It's best to think of him as a big puppy, okay?"

"Okay mummy." Carmelita smiled and hugged her mother. Mr. Fox folded his arms quietly.

"Anyway you two dinner won't be for another hour or so, so don't get in too much of a mess between now and then." Mrs. Fox said standing. "And that goes double for you." She shot at her husband. Mr. Fox smiled sardonically at his wife as she made her way back to the house.

"Little Traitor," Mr. Fox said once Mrs. Fox was out of earshot.

"I think puppies are cute, Daddy." Carmelita shrugged.

"Okay then, I think it's best if we stopped shooting for today," Mr. Fox returned to more trivial matters as he retrieved the BB gun from the ground where Carmelita had placed it when he'd picked her up.

"Aww..." Carmelita started.

"Now, now, there'll be other days, I promise. I don't want your mother to kill me just yet, okay?"

"Okay Daddy."

"I'll put this back in the shed." He said flicking the safety on the gun. "Why don't you go and play for an hour? I'll call you when dinner's ready."

"Okay."

"See you in a little while sweetheart."

Carmelita watched her father until he disappeared from view behind the house, and then poked her way over to the fence. She crouched down and retrieved both of the cans from under it. She turned both of them over carefully in her hands, a few drips leaking out of one of them made her paws sticky. As she casually wiped her hands on her T-shirt she concluded that the pellet from the gun wasn't quite powerful enough to pierce the can. It was a little dented from the impact, but that was the worst of it. That meant that she now had two perfectly good bug collecting containers. She picked herself up and made her way over to the field that was just across the road from her house. Although Carmelita's parents were constantly stressing the dangers of cars to her, the 'road' outside their house was in reality little more than a dirt track; one maybe two cars a day drove down it. So the Fox's let their daughter pretty much roam the surrounding fields, just as long as she always told them where she was going, didn't talk to strangers, and absolutely never ate any yellow snow (Her father told her that one). However Mr. Fox could rest easy on days such as this one. The land was parched, the grass yellow and the mud full of tiny cracks. Just across the road from her house there was a tiny children's area, just a few swings, a wonky roundabout and a slide that was probably hot enough to fry an egg on by now. It was here that Carmelita was headed, or more specifically, the tall grass that surrounded it. As she neared the swings she noticed that one of them was occupied. There was a young skunk wearing a bright blue t-shirt.

"Hey Jamie," Carmelita said as she passed her gently swinging friend.

"Hey Carmelita," Jamie replied, still swinging. "What're you doing with those cans?"

"I'm gonna go catch some grasshoppers," Carmelita said, not turning around.

"Cool. Can I come?"

"Yeah, ok." Carmelita said with a backwards glance.

Jamie jumped from the seat mid swing and quickly caught up with the young fox. The pair strolled towards the tall grass at a casual pace and before long they could hear the familiar chirp chirp of the various crickets and grasshoppers that the tall yellow grass was teeming with. After about five minutes searching they'd managed to catch around three grasshoppers.

"What're we gonna do with them once we catch them?" Jamie asked, closely scrutinizing a patch of grass that chirping seemed to be coming from.

"Just look at them for a while, then let them go." Carmelita said as she made another grab for a hopper with cupped hands. "Maybe race 'em." She added as an afterthought.

"I'm too slow..." Jamie said sadly after a few more minutes bug collecting. He'd only managed to fill his can with one grasshopper whereas Carmelita now had four.

"Don't worry," Carmelita grinned. "Here you can have this one."

"Thanks." Jamie smiled back as Carmelita carefully placed the bug inside the can. There were a few dink noises from the can before the hopper worked out that every time it hopped it hit its head.

"I think that's about enough for now…" Carmelita said, stretching and wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

"Are we gonna race 'em?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah." Carmelita said, placing her can on the ground on its side, the hole facing the grass. "Let's say first can to be emptied wins."

Jamie placed his own can a few feet away from Carmelita's, in the same position. They waited a few minutes until a grasshopper nervously poked its head from Carmelita's can before hopping for its life to the grass. Jamie gave his can a gentle nudge with the toe of his shoe.

"No cheating." Carmelita scolded.

"My grasshoppers are shy." Jamie said, gazing at the can. As both friends watched a wide hulking shadow fell across the cans. Carmelita and Jamie turned to face the owner of the shadow, and squinted against the midday sun.

"What're they?" The owner of the shadow said.

It took Carmelita a little while to make out the person who'd just arrived. Then she recognized him as Terry, an older dog from their school. He was wearing denims with holes in the knees and a chain hanging from it, and a scary torn, black vest top. Carmelita was hesitant to answer, as she knew Terry by reputation, and it was nor a good one. The less they had to do with him the better.

"They're grasshoppers." Jamie said proudly. Carmelita shot her friend a sideways glance. Clearly Jamie didn't know about Terry.

"Lovely." Terry said emotionlessly. "I hate grasshoppers."

And with that, he brought his boot down hard on Jamie's can, crushing it flat.

"NO!" Both Jamie and Carmelita cried in unison.

Jamie made a rush for Terry and tried to push him over. Terry lifted him up by his shirt and backhanded him across the face. Jamie went sprawling across the dusty ground. Carmelita could only watch as he slowly picked himself up, tears streaming down his cheeks matting his fur, and a thin trickle of blood oozing of on of his nostrils.

"Bad move skunk boy," Terry laughed.

Carmelita balled her hands into tight fists, and sobs threatening to cripple her chest, she launched herself at Terry allowing her raw fury to power her. Terry flung her to the ground as if she was nothing.

"That's a bit weak, Stripes," Terry sneered at Jamie. "Letting your girlfriend fight for you."

With a face-full of earth Carmelita couldn't see, but she heard a loud crunch that signaled the demise of the second grasshopper can. Carmelita grimly hauled herself to her feet. She was crying now, but out of bitter frustration and rage than pain. She strode over to the quietly weeping Jamie and grasped him by the paw. She firmly led him away from the swings and began the short distance back to the house.

"Pussies!" Terry shot at them as they walked away. His throaty snickering followed them until they were out of earshot.

"Are you ok?" Carmelita said quietly. She was crying, but the ball of anger inside her was clearing her mind and numbing her all to but the actual tears.

"I… I t-think so…" Jamie sniffled.

"Make sure you put some ice on your nose when you get home. Are you ok to get there by yourself?"

"O-ok…"

"You sure?"

Jamie nodded. Carmelita kept hold of his paw until they reached the front of her house. Her parents were still inside. She was glad; she didn't want to have to explain things. Not just yet.

"You go home now Jamie." Carmelita said, forcing a small smile.

"What you gonna do?" Jamie sniffed. "Are you gonna tell?"

"Yeah." Carmelita said. "I'm just gonna do something first."

"Be careful," Jamie warned. Carmelita gave her friend a small hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Carmelita said. Jamie turned to leave, and set off down the road at full pelt. Carmelita watched him for a few seconds. His house was only down the road, and once he got there he'd have to tell his parents what happened, so if she was going to do this it'd have to be done now. She ran quickly and quietly around the back of the house.

Terry once again focused his magnifying glass on a dormant grasshopper. The insect stood the white-hot power of the sun for a full second before deciding to take its chances in the wilderness that was the tall grass. Terry growled impatiently and looked carefully around for another bug to fry. After a few more minutes searching in which he managed to singe a patch of grass and severely worry several more grasshoppers he heard a crunch of earth behind him. He wheeled around quickly, worried for a second that an adult might've been watching him. It was Carmelita again, just standing there, watching him with her hands behind her back. Terry sneered at her.

"Back for more, eh, Foxy?" He laughed. "Come on then, take your best shot."

Carmelita bared her teeth and pulled both hands from behind her back. She opened fire with two of the electric BB guns from her father's shed. It was the easiest shooting she'd ever done. The ball of anger inside her did all of the aiming and firing for her; all she had to do was focus on her target. With every pellet that fired from her twin guns, with every agonizing yelp that Terry let out her anger flared more and more, and she was reminded that he deserved it, deserved every single welt that the guns delivered, and that made her smile. She grinned a fiery grin as she dealt out white-hot justice, and the sun dried her tears and the wind carried her laughter out over the tall grass. Terry didn't stay for the whole performance, but he did get about a clip and a half's worth of pellets strike him about the head and shoulders. That day Carmelita learnt that sometimes violence could be justified, that sometimes the only defense is a good offence, and that she liked the taste of scorching revenge. She saw off Terry with all guns blazing, and despite her young years, she knew she wanted to do it for the whole of her life.