ProfessionalIdiot

Luce lounged on the soft grass, her rifle beside her. The faintest of breezes wafted across the field, and the sun was warm. As far as training went it was an easy day, comfortable and lazy. Amsel even had a big cooler out with cold drinks. "Read the target, Luce." He yawned. The girl stretched lazily and rolled onto her stomach, gently lifting her Springfield from the shooting mat. She stared straight at the target as the scope came up, blurring in and out of focus for a moment before settling into a sharp crosshair centered over the target. An average human male was just about one-point-seven meters tall. Multiplied by a thousand and -