[Four, five, six rounds slam into a hot cylinder, she snaps it back in place and fires again, aiming at the head. At this distance? It's not that hard to hit, even with the flailing appendages in the way, the shadows, the distance. A sharpshooter Adele wasn't, but at fifteen paces she did not have to be. ]
Move, Clyde-
[Two steps closer and three more rounds right into the back of it's skull. To be sure.]
no subject
Move, Clyde-
[Two steps closer and three more rounds right into the back of it's skull. To be sure.]