A Shephard- ZoC Main Story inter story

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NZdggNUvq0 [Embed]

“You are like this…” the girl motions with her arms, holding an imaginary rifle

“When you should be like this!” she continues, slightly adjusting her arms on the imaginary rifle. She’s beaming at you; excited that she’s the one teaching you something.

You just sigh, shaking your head. How is it possible for someone to tell that minuscule of a difference?

Did she move her elbow, or…

“Uh, I think?” she finishes, now lowering her arms as she finishes. Welp, you lost whatever image she was trying to get across.

It had been a few weeks, and you decided it was a nice day out to try to practice your shooting. When you needed to, she would always hit the target; but outside of those times, you were an okay shot at best. Time to get better, you thought. Your rifle beamed at the idea, but you soon ran into what should have been an obvious problem.

I mean, wouldn’t it be cool if your rifle could tell you how you’re shooting? Help you adjust your posture, and give advice?

Yes, but you realized it was useless after firing the first shot.

Popping right up next to you, she starting talking a mile a minute; but with the rifle no longer in your hands, it was hard to adjust. This proceeded after every single shot, your patience wearing thin. Finally, you convinced her to wait after a whole magazine, but then her methods of explaining were… abstract, at best.

After being quiet for a while, she opens up again.

“No good?” she says, tilting her face at you; her chestnut hair blowing in the breeze.

“Its, uh, informative,” you stumble out, trying to salvage the situation. You have learned a few things, outside of the shooting. Certain best practices concerning maintenance, some functions, and a bit of history.

“How do you know all this, by the way? It it part of your, uh, gun nature?” you ask, still pretty much in the dark about what and how she is.

Once again, she’s launched herself into some deep thought. You unscrew your canteen and take a swig

“Chechnya.” she states factually.

And you spurt your water all over the place.

“Wha-wha-wha, huh?” is all you can muster, as she rushes over to you with concern.

You cough up the last bit of water, and wave off her worrying patting.

“So, uh, you served?”
“Mmmm, maybe?”

Damn this girl, she’s not the best at explaining things sometimes.

“I was only like this here,” she motions towards herself. “Back then, I was like that” she finishes, pointing to your makarov.

“So a normal rifle?” you guess. She looks a bit hurt at this statement, though.

“Yes. I have, memories, but not like I was there. Only watching something happen. Like that” she now points towards your pda. “I’ve been many places, many experiences, people I’ve watched and heard. I have to focus, or I can’t see them clearly.”

“So, like old movies?” you try to help her. But she just looks at you. “The things playing on repeat behind the barkeep, on the TV.”

She nods enthusiastically in the affirmative.

At least you can be sure there’s a few years of combat experience behind her advice now, even if she wasn’t “there” herself. Or she was, kinda. This whole thing is confusing, one day you’ll get some answers to this, you hope.

Giving up on the shooting, and this conversation, you just sit and stare off into the distance. She sits next to you, just leaning on your shoulder.

Does she understand this display of affection? Is it okay if-

Fuck it, don’t overthink things. You wrap one arm over her shoulders, pulling her a bit closer. She doesn’t react, one way or the other, which is fine by you. For now, at least.

It was a cloudless day, a slight breeze picking up occasionally. The sun basking the rolling hills dotted with the occasional trees, contrasted onto a dark background of the forest that spreads out beyond this little area.

You needed to pick up soon, to get moving east. It had been a few weeks from agroprom, and a few days untill you reach the abandoned labs at yantar.

But right now, you were fine, at peace. You felt like the rifle cartridge around your neck; theated, but floating.

Having a girl like Lucy next to you like this will do that to a man.

So you’ll stay like this for a bit longer.

In this small zone of comfort.