[center][color=0076a3][h1][color=khaki]JOHN "JINGO" STRANGE[/color][/h1][/color][b]FIRING RANGE, NEW ANCHORAGE[/b][/center]

A grey eye looked down the iron sights wide with concentration, 400 yards away the corners of a paper target fluttered in the breeze, tacked to a sheet of steel. Jingo held his breath and so did the small congregation of people around him; switching the rifle from safety to live he squeezed the trigger and fired. A short burst of lead, three or four bullets, whizzed down the range accompanied by the flashes of the rifle's muzzle - on the other side the resounding of metal striking metal, Jingo let himself breath and the people cheered, a grin flashed across his face. 

"[color=khaki]Now dunt waste yer brets just ye', still go' a whole mag let'.[/color]"

Gwenda leaned down by his head and squinted, trying to get a look at the distant target.

"[color=khaki]'Ow does i' look?.[/color]" he asked, turing his head to look at the very close Gwenda. She snorted and rose back from her stoop. 

"[color=lavender]I couldn't tell you if I wanted too,[/color]" Gwenda mumbled, she fumbled for her binoculars and looked down range. She nodded slowly, whistling in admiration, "[color=lavender]Keep shooting."[/color] Jingo wasn't sure whether she was messing with him or was being sincere, he spared a glance at Gwenda and set his jaw. He peered back down the sight, opening his eye as wide as possible and pulled on the trigger. Jingo struggled against the recoil, if he still had two hands it would be much easier to control the ravenous snaps of the rifle but with just a hook, subduing the rattle was much more difficult.

The gun clicked on empty, the hammer striking an empty chamber. Jingo let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding, and was at the same time astonished at how long he held it for. Looking up from his prone position he met Gwenda's gaze, she looked back at him for a moment before jerking her head to the distant target. John nodded, getting up from the shooter's position and patting himself down before climbing over the barricade and into the snowy outside. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and trudged through the snow beside Gwenda, both silently huffing and panting as they approached the 400 yard mark. At this point Jingo was freezing, he had neglected to bring a jacket and simply walked out in his thermals; in his NC that would have been no issue but outside with the random gusts of bitter cold, he was regretting it.

The pair stood side by side infant of the steel plate, Gwenda shocked and Jingo pleasantly surprised.

"[color=khaki]Blimey.[/color]"

"[color=lavender]Blimey indeed..[/color]" The center of the target was practically gone, a tattered, shredded circle where paper once was but was now completely gone. The metal plate Behind the hole was a mess of of dimples and punctures, accumulating at a jagged hole in the middle. Gwenda turned her head to look at Jingo, "[color=lavender]Are you sure that rifle of yours is an assault rifle?[/color] Jingo merely shrugged and she nodded before mumbling, "Don't want to be on the other side of you, that's for sure."