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Headshot.
Headshot.
Headshot.
Headshot.

Zara rifled shots all around herself, twin Berretas in hand. This was her kind of fight--loud, boisterous. She tossed her Berettas skyward and slung the shotgun off her back while they were in mid-air. She put a round of shot between the eyes of one of the woodland monsters who had gotten too close. Her Berettas fell to flat behind her, she didn't catch them in her holsters as the action heroes did in the movies she used to watch as a kid. A shame, it would have been epic. Her gridlock focus was broken at the sound of explosion! What the--

"Who the #*$& lit the forest on fire?" it is said that only two of nine members of any adventuring party is smart. She wondered who the second one was (including herself, of course).

She shook her head and returned to dropping these woodland monsters with pristine precision. She never wasted more than one shot--all kills. She whipped the shotgun back into its sling and picked up her twin Berettas; then she got to work again.

Headshot.
Headshot.
Headshot.

"Can y'all hurry up and get this over with? I'm runnin' out of bullets here!"